Disha: Lactating mom(Kamadhenu cow) - Exploited by Elders - Gold Grade Scene 10*

[ashuezy2]

Intro

My name is Disha. I am twenty-eight years old, married, and living in Delhi with my husband Rajat, a thirty-two-year-old corporate professional, and our six-month-old son Vivaan. We belong to a close-knit North Indian joint family where everyone knows everyone’s business, routines overlap, and privacy is rare but affection is constant. Rajat’s parents Papa ji and Mummy ji live with us, along with his younger brother Sumit, who is twenty-six and still figuring out his life. Ours is a loud, affectionate household, rooted in tradition but comfortable with modernity.

Scene 1

The alarm on my phone buzzed at exactly 5:00 AM. We had to attend my Husband's cousin's wedding at Aligarh.

It was a sharp, vibrating sound against the wooden side table, cutting through the silence of our Delhi apartment. Outside, the city was still asleep, bathed in a dull blue grey light. Inside, under the quilt, it was warm.
I sat up and stretched, feeling the familiar, heavy pull on my chest. Being twenty-eight and a new mother meant my body ran on a different schedule than the rest of the world. My nursing bra felt tight, almost suffocating. I slid my legs out of the bed, careful not to wake my husband, Rajat, or our six-month-old son, Vivaan, who was sleeping soundly in his crib.
I walked into the washroom and locked the door. The white tube light flickered on, humming softly. I looked in the mirror. My face looked fresh, even without sleep. I’ve always been bubbly, the kind of girl who smiles even when she’s tired. But my eyes went lower. My nighty was damp at the front. Two round wet patches.
I unhooked the nursing bra. My breasts were swollen, heavy with milk, the veins blue and prominent against my fair skin. They felt hot to the touch. I was leaking. A drop of white milk pearl rolled down my skin. I didn't care about the mess; I only cared about the pressure. I needed to travel for five hours, and I couldn't start the journey in pain.
I cupped my right breast, lifting the weight of it. It was full, round, and firm. I leaned down and brought my nipple to my lips. It was a strange, practical intimacy with myself. I sucked, relieving the pressure just enough to make it bearable, swallowing the sweet, warm taste of my own body. I did the same with the left. It wasn't sexual, but it was raw. It was a reminder of how voluptuous and productive my body had become. My waist was still slim, snapping back quickly after pregnancy, which made my chest look even larger in comparison.
By 6:00 AM, the house was chaotic. My father-in-law, Papa ji, was shouting instructions about luggage. My mother-in-law, Mummy ji, was packing snacks. My brother-in-law, Sumit, was still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
I dressed in a mustard yellow saree for the travel. The blouse was deep-cut, a daring choice for a family trip, but I liked how it looked. It showed ample cleavage, the fabric straining slightly against my size.
"Disha, hurry up! The Innova is downstairs!" Rajat called out.
We went down. The morning air was crisp. The white Innova stood waiting.
The seating arrangement was decided quickly. The driver, a man in his thirties with a thick mustache, sat ready. Papa ji took the front passenger seat. I sat in the middle row by the window, with Vivaan in my lap and Mummy ji next to me. Rajat and Sumit took the back seat.
As we hit the Yamuna Expressway towards Aligarh, the sun started to rise, filling the car with golden light. The air conditioning was on, a low hum that vibrated against my skin.
"So, Amit is finally settling down," Rajat said from the back. "About time. He’s thirty-two."
"Preeti is a nice girl," Mummy ji added, opening a box of mathris. "Very homely."
"It will be a big gathering," Papa ji said, looking back at us. "All the cousins are coming. Even the eldest, Rakesh. He is forty-eight now. And Tanika didi is coming too, despite the divorce."
"Seven male cousins," I laughed, my voice ringing clear in the car. "I hope I remember all their names."
"You just smile, Disha," Rajat joked. "That’s enough."
Vivaan started to fuss in my lap. He squirmed, his little face turning red. He was hungry.
"Arre, he is hungry," Mummy ji said. "Feed him, beta."
I didn't hesitate. I am carefree like that. I don't believe in hiding when my child needs me. Plus, with the family around, I felt safe. I pulled the pallu of my saree slightly, but I didn't cover myself completely. I unhooked my blouse.
My heavy breast spilled out, pale and soft in the morning light. The dark areola was visible for a second before Vivaan latched on greedily.
I leaned back against the seat, relaxing.
That’s when I noticed the movement in the rearview mirror. The driver had adjusted it. His eyes were not on the road behind us. They were fixed on the reflection of my chest, watching the rhythmic movement of the baby feeding, seeing the exposed skin of my upper breast and the leaking nipple of the other side that was pressed against my saree.
I didn't cover up. I looked at his eyes in the mirror. He didn't look away immediately. The silence in the car felt thick, like heavy velvet.
Papa ji turned around from the front seat to say something to Rajat. His eyes landed on me. He stopped mid-sentence. His gaze dropped to my open blouse, lingering on the way the baby’s hand pressed into my soft flesh.
"Looks like he is well fed," Papa ji said, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Time for a burp soon, maybe."
He didn't turn back around immediately. He watched for another second, his expression unreadable, before facing the road again.
"Disha," Mummy ji whispered, nudging me. "Cover a little. We are on the highway."
"It's okay, Mummy ji," I said lightly, bouncing my leg. "He gets suffocated under the cloth. Besides, who is looking? It's just family."
Rajat leaned forward from the back seat and patted my shoulder. "Let her be, Ma. She has every right to feed him however she is comfortable."
I smiled at Rajat, then looked back at the rearview mirror. The driver was still watching. Papa ji shifted in his seat, adjusting his posture. The car sped towards Aligarh, towards the ITC hotel, towards a wedding full of men I barely knew, carrying a heaviness in the air that had nothing to do with the luggage.
Something shifted in the car. The conversation died down, but the awareness remained, hanging in the cool, conditioned air, unspoken and heavy.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 2

The Innova came to a smooth halt under the grand porch of the ITC hotel. The air outside was warmer now, the sun climbing higher. Inside the car, I quickly adjusted my saree. I buttoned my blouse, but in the rush, I left the top two hooks open. It felt too suffocating to close them all the way with my heavy chest still feeling so full.

I stepped out first, holding Vivaan close to me. The sudden movement made my breasts bounce slightly against the fabric. The doorman, a tall man in a uniform with big mustache, reached out to open the glass door. He didn't look at my face or the baby. His eyes were fixed lower, staring directly at the deep curve of my cleavage visible through the loose hooks. I didn't pull the pallu to cover it. I just smiled, shifted Vivaan to my other hip, and walked past him, feeling his gaze burning into my back.
The lobby was cool and smelled of expensive flowers. Our group was loud, a mix of excitement and travel fatigue. I walked straight to the reception desk.

"Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?" the lady behind the desk asked, her smile polite and professional.
"Please give us our keys," I said, my voice cheerful. "The booking is under the groom's family name."
I told her the names. She typed on her computer, then looked up. Her eyes softened when she saw Vivaan.
"How old is he?" she asked.
"Six months," I replied proudly.
The rest of the family walked in behind me, Rajat, Papa ji, Mummy ji, and Sumit. We had arrived early, around 10:00 AM. The Mehndi ceremony wasn't until 11:00, which gave us exactly an hour to freshen up and change.

"Two rooms," the receptionist said, handing over the key cards.
We took the elevator up. The rooms were on the third floor, facing the pool. They were beautiful, large, airy, with thick carpets and massive windows. Rajat, Vivaan, and I took one room, while Papa ji, Mummy ji, and Sumit took the connecting room next door.

I put Vivaan on the center of the big, fluffy bed. He cooed, kicking his legs. I felt sticky from the travel and the leaking milk.

"I need a quick bath," I told Rajat, who was already busy opening the suitcases.
"Go ahead," he said. "I'll watch him."

I walked into the bathroom. It was luxurious, with marble floors and a huge rain shower. But the design was modern and bold. The wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom was made of clear glass. There was an electronic blind that could be lowered for privacy, but in my rush to get clean, I didn't press the button.

I stripped off my saree, the heavy blouse, and the damp nursing bra. I stepped under the shower and turned it on. The water was hot and soothing. I closed my eyes, washing the travel dust and the milk from my skin. My body felt voluptuous and heavy, glistening under the bright bathroom lights.
Suddenly, I heard the click of the room door opening.

I turned around, water dripping from my hair down to my breasts.
It was Papa ji. He had walked in from the next room, probably looking for Rajat or a Vivaan. He stopped dead in his tracks.

I had forgotten the curtain. I was standing there, fully naked, framed by the clear glass.
Papa ji didn't turn around. He didn't apologize and run out. He stood there, just a few feet away on the other side of the glass, staring. His eyes traveled over my wet skin, my full breasts, my slim waist, and wide hips. I saw his throat move as he swallowed.

I knew he was enjoying it.

For a second, the only sound was the rushing water. I didn't scream. I didn't try to cover myself with my hands. He was family. He was my father-in-law. In my bubbly, carefree mind, it didn't seem like a crime. It just felt... open.

He looked for one long moment more, his gaze heavy and intense, before he slowly backed out and closed the door.

I finished my shower, dried myself, and walked out wrapped in a towel. Rajat was playing with Vivaan, oblivious. I didn't mention it.

By 11:00 AM, we were ready. The Mehndi ceremony was outdoors on the main lawn. It was a sea of yellow and mustard. Marigolds hung from every tree, and Bollywood songs thumped from big speakers.
I wore a bright yellow lehenga with a sleeveless choli. The neck was deep, designed to show off jewelry, but today it showed off my assets.

We walked into the venue, and immediately, I felt the shift. It wasn't just Papa ji anymore. It was everyone.

Rajat’s cousins were there. Seven of them. Men ranging from twenty-five to forty-eight. They were standing in a group, laughing and drinking thandai. When they saw me, the laughter died down a little. Seven pairs of eyes locked onto me.

I smiled and waved. "Hello, Bhaiya!" I greeted the eldest, Rakesh.
He looked at me, his eyes lingering on my chest before meeting my face. "Hello, Disha. You look... very healthy."

We mingled. There were games, a tug of war between the bride's side and the groom's side. I joined in, laughing loudly, pulling on the rope. The physical effort made my chest heave, and I could feel the sweat trickling down my neck. Every time I pulled, I felt eyes on me. We won, and I jumped up and down, hugging Sumit and Rajat, not caring about how much I was bouncing.

Then, the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.
"And now! We need a special Bhabhi to apply the shagun Mehndi to our handsome groom, Amit!"
The crowd cheered. Someone pushed me forward. "Go, Disha! You go!"

I walked up the ramp to the small stage where Amit was sitting on a decorated swing. He was wearing a yellow kurta, looking shy.
I stood in front of him. To apply the mehndi, I had to bend down.
I leaned forward.

My deep neckline fell open. Because of gravity, my heavy breasts surged forward, filling the view. Amit was sitting lower than me. He had a direct, unobstructed view down my blouse.
I saw his eyes widen. He stopped blinking. He looked deep inside, staring at the pale curves that were just inches from his face.

I didn't pull back. I didn't adjust my saree. I smiled at him, knowing exactly what he was seeing. I had to show him. It was a wedding, after all. Everyone should be happy.
I dipped my finger into the silver bowl of henna paste.
"Ready, Amit?" I teased.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded, his face turning pink.
I applied a dot of Mehndi gently on his palm. Then, I reached up and put a small dot on his cheek. The crowd roared with approval.

"More! More!" the announcer yelled. "Give him some love!"
I looked at Amit. He was blushing furiously, but his eyes were still glued to my chest.
I dipped my hand into the bowl again, taking a larger scoop of the cold, green paste.
I reached out, but instead of his face, I slid my hand inside the loose collar of his kurta.
I pressed my palm against his hairy chest, right over his heart. I rubbed the cold Mehndi into his warm skin, moving my hand in a slow circle.

"For good luck," I whispered, leaning in closer so my chest almost brushed his nose.
Amit let out a shaky breath. The crowd went wild, whistling and clapping. The announcer shouted into the microphone, "Oh my god! Look at Disha Bhabhi go! That is how you start a party!"

I stood up slowly, wiping my hand on a tissue, flashing a dazzling smile at the crowd of people watching me. I felt hot, exposed, and the center of everything. And in the front row, I saw Papa ji, clapping slowly, a small, knowing smile on his face.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 3(Rewritten) - Gold Scene

The hotel room door clicked shut. Rajat had run out quickly to check the catering. Now I was alone in the cool, quiet room. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The mehndi function was finally over, but my body still felt hot from the afternoon sun.

I took a long breath and slowly took off the heavy yellow lehenga. My whole body felt puffy and tired. My chest was hurting a lot. The nursing pads inside my blouse were completely wet. I didn't wear a bra. I just put on a loose white cotton kurta and pajama. I wanted to feel free and breathe properly.

I sat on the side of the bed and rubbed my neck. When I looked down, I saw that the white kurta was already sticking to my chest. Two big wet circles were growing bigger and bigger. 

Then the door opened.

I didn't get scared. I thought Rajat had come back to take his wallet.

"Rajat, did you forget—" I started saying while turning around.

It wasn't Rajat.

It was Papa ji.

He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. His face looked very serious. His eyes were heavy. He didn't look at my face. He was staring straight at the wet marks on my kurta.

"Papa ji?" I quickly picked up the dupatta from the bed to cover myself.

But he raised his hand. "Don't cover it, Disha," he said in a low, rough voice. "I have already seen everything. I saw you in the shower. I saw you with Amit on the stage. Now you are ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked. My stomach was turning with fear and confusion.

He came closer and stopped just one step away from me. His strong smell filled the air.

"In our family," he said slowly, "when a new bahu becomes a mother and when she is full of milk like you… she has a special duty."

I stared at him. "What duty?"

"You have to satisfy the senior men of the family," he said as if it was a normal thing. "Tau ji, Rakesh chacha, Suresh chacha… they are all waiting. It is our old family custom."

My face became pale. My legs felt weak.

"What?" I whispered. "This is wrong! This is disgusting! This is… this is like sin inside the family! Rajat will never forgive you if he hears this!"

Papa ji gave a dark smile. "Rajat already knows, beta. He knows the custom very well. He will not stop it… as long as you do your duty. Why do you think he left the room so fast?"

"I don't believe you," I said, my voice shaking. I held the bedsheet tightly. "You are lying. You are just… bad."

"You think I'm lying?" Papa ji said, raising one eyebrow. "All the bahus before you — Neha bhabhi, Suman bhabhi, even your Chachi ji — they have all done it. Many times. And now it's your turn, Disha. I waited patiently. I watched your chest grow with Vivaan. I waited for your milk to come and Vivaan to grow enough. Now the wait is over. You have to learn our family ways."

I shook my head. Tears came in my eyes. "No. I will never do this."

Papa ji didn't get angry. He simply took out his phone.

"Sarita!" he spoke loudly on speaker. "Come to room 302. Our bahu needs to understand the family history."

Two minutes later, there was a soft knock. Papa ji opened the door.

Mummy ji walked in.

She looked completely calm. She looked at Papa ji, then at my scared face, and finally at my wet kurta. She didn't look surprised at all.

"Mummy ji!" I ran to her. "Please tell him to stop! He is saying horrible things! He says I have to… to be with Tau ji!"

Mummy ji closed the door softly. She held both my hands. Her hands felt warm.

"Don't be shy, bahu," she said very gently. "We have all done this many times. We were all waiting for you to be ready like this."

My mouth fell open. "You… also?"

"Yes," she said, touching my hair softly. "Even tonight, Tau ji has asked for my time later. It is our duty."

I felt sick. Very ashamed. But somewhere deep inside, something strange and hot was also moving.

"But why?" I asked in a small voice. "Please tell me the truth."

Mummy ji made me sit on the bed. She sat beside me like she was telling a normal story.

"It started long many many generations ago," she said. "There was a new bride in our family. She had a secret relationship with a boy outside. It became a big problem. When they asked her why, she said her husband was not enough for her. She said the women have too much 'fire' inside them. We woman always want more."

Mummy ji looked at my chest for a long moment.

"So the elders decided," she continued, "that the fire should stay inside the family only. They made a rule. The senior men will take care of it. So the women don't go outside. This became our family tradition. I know you also feel that fire, Disha. I saw how you looked at the driver. I saw how you touched Amit today. You have it too. So we keep it in the family."

She smiled a little. "Forget Sumit for now. He is not married yet. He will get his turn only after he brings a wife. And that girl Amit is marrying — Preeti — after she has a baby and becomes full like you… she will also join. This is the cycle."

I sat there like a statue. Everything I knew about right and wrong was breaking.

Mummy ji came closer. She touched the wet spot on my kurta with her fingers.

"Now," she whispered, "about this milk… can I taste it?"

"Mummy ji?" I was shocked.

"I have to check," she said seriously. "Tau ji is very strict about the taste. If it's not sweet enough, he gets upset. If it's good… he becomes very happy with us."

I couldn't move. I just watched as Mummy ji slowly opened the buttons of my kurta.

Papa ji stood near the window, watching with a hungry smile.

"It's also about the land, Disha," Papa ji said. "Tau ji owns most of our village land. It's worth many crores. If he is happy… if he drinks your sweet milk and feels satisfied… he will give a big share to our branch. For Rajat. For Vivaan."

Mummy ji didn't wait anymore. She bent down and took my nipple in her mouth. 

I couldn't move. My body felt frozen, paralyzed by the shock of what Mummy ji was saying and what she was doing. My brain was screaming “Push her away! Run!” but my legs were shaking so hard they wouldn't work. And deep down... deep down in the heavy, throbbing weight of my chest, a treacherous part of me wanted the relief.

Mummy ji’s hands were gentle but firm. She undid the top three buttons of my white kurta. She didn't hesitate. She pulled the fabric aside, and my left breast tumbled out. It was massive, swollen hard with hours of accumulated milk. The skin was tight and shiny, the blue veins pulsing underneath. The nipple was dark, erect, and leaking a steady stream of white fluid that ran down my ribcage.

"So full," Mummy ji whispered, her eyes widening. "A true Kamadhenu (Cow of plenty)."

She didn't wait. She leaned forward. I felt her hot breath on my skin.
Then, her wet, warm mouth closed over my nipple.

I gasped, my back arching off the mattress involuntarily. Oh my god.
It wasn't like Vivaan. Vivaan has a small mouth; he is gentle. Mummy ji was an adult. Her mouth was large, warm, and experienced. She created a vacuum instantly. She latched on with a suction so strong it felt like she was pulling my soul out through my chest.

I looked down, my eyes wide with disbelief. My mother-in-law, the woman I touched feet of every morning, was buried in my cleavage, nursing from me like a baby.

"Mmmm," she hummed against my skin, the vibration buzzing through my sensitive breast.

She started to suck rhythmically. Her tongue swirled around the nipple, massaging the areola to stimulate the flow. And my body... my traitorous body responded. I felt the familiar tingle of the let-down reflex. A rush of heat spread from my chest to my belly, and then lower, settling between my legs.

The milk sprayed into her mouth. I could feel it leaving me. She gulped it down greedily.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

"It’s so much," I thought, biting my lip to stop a moan. "She is drinking everything."
I felt a mix of intense shame and blinding arousal. It was humiliating to be used like cattle, to be tested like a product. But at the same time, the relief was orgasmic. The pain of the fullness was fading, replaced by the pleasure of being emptied.

Mummy ji didn't stop. She drank and drank. She used her hand to knead the side of my breast, squeezing the milk ducts to get every drop. I watched her throat move as she swallowed my body's cream. She must have drunk at least half a bottle's worth in just two minutes.

Finally, she pulled back with a loud pop.

My breast was wet with her saliva and leftover milk. The nipple was red and elongated from her strong suction.

Mummy ji sat back, wiping a thick streak of white milk from her chin. She licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked at Papa ji, her eyes shining with a strange excitement.

"It is perfect," she announced, her voice slightly breathless. "It is thick, very sweet, and warm. Much better than Suman’s. Tau ji is going to be very pleased."

Papa ji was standing by the window, watching the whole performance. He was rubbing the front of his trousers.

"Excellent," he growled, his eyes dark with lust. "If the milk is this sweet, the land deal is as good as done."
He checked his watch.
"Get her ready, Sarita," Papa ji ordered. "Wipe her face. Make her look presentable. Tau ji is walking down the corridor right now. He likes his milk fresh from the source."
I slumped back against the pillows, clutching my open kurta, my heart pounding against my ribs. I looked at my wet nipple, then at the door. I realized with a terrifying thrill that my life as a normal housewife was over. I was now the family’s prize, and the real milking was about to begin.

[ashuezy2]

Please share feedback, if you want me to continue with the story or not.

[Wtf99]

I'm not interested when the male characters are young. It's too boring and docile for me. Add in ugly, old horny pervert grandpas and uncles and I'M EXCITED AF!! Because the lactating female protagonist is perfect.

[ashuezy2]

I'm not interested when the male characters are young. It's too boring and docile for me. Add in ugly, old horny pervert grandpas and uncles and I'M EXCITED AF!! Because the lactating female protagonist is perfect.

Added Papaji and Tauji.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 4

As soon as Mummy ji pulled her mouth away from my breast, reality hit me like a slap. My nipple was wet, red, swollen, and throbbing. I quickly grabbed the edges of my white kurta and pulled them together with shaking hands. My fingers fumbled with the buttons.

"Oh god," I whispered, my face burning with heat. "What did we just do?"

I felt dirty. I felt used. But deep down, in a place I didn't want to admit, my body was buzzing. My left breast felt light and relieved, while my right breast was still heavy and aching, jealous of the attention.
Papa ji checked his watch again. He looked nervous but excited.

"Sarita, fix your saree," he ordered. "Tau ji has booked his time with you today. He has been waiting for this trip for months. But... today is also the day we introduce Disha to him."

Mummy ji stood up. She looked calm, like she was just getting ready for a puja, not for sex with her husband’s elder brother. She wiped the milk from her chin and smoothed her hair.

"I know, ji," Mummy ji said confidently. "I am ready. I know exactly how to make Tau ji happy. You just leave me and Disha alone here."

Papa ji hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Mummy ji smiled, a dirty, knowing smile. "Once he arrives, I will take care of his needs. Disha will sit in the chair and watch. She needs to see how a good woman serves the elders. She will learn for the future."

Papa ji looked at me one last time. He looked at my heaving chest under the thin kurta. "Good. Make sure he is satisfied."
He unlocked the door and slipped out.
I was alone with Mummy ji.

"Mummy ji, please," I begged, clutching my chest. "Let me go. I can't watch this."
"Sit down, Disha," she said, her voice hard. She pointed to a chair in the corner. "If you run now, we will not get any land. Do you want Rajat to lose everything? Do you want Vivaan to have no future?"
I froze. They were using my son against me. I slowly walked to the chair and sat down, pulling my knees together. I felt small and trapped.

Knock. Knock.

It was a heavy, demanding knock.
Mummy ji opened the door.
Tau ji walked in.

He was a big man. Much older than Papa ji. He wore a crisp white kurta and a dhoti. He had a thick white mustache and carried a wooden walking stick. He smelled good and of expensive attar (perfume).

He didn't say hello. He walked straight in and sat on the edge of the bed like a king.
Mummy ji immediately bent down. I thought she was going to touch his feet for blessings.

"Pranam, Tau ji," she whispered.

She touched his feet, but she didn't stand up. She stayed on her knees on the carpet between his legs.
"Sarita," Tau ji grunted, his voice deep and rough. "You look healthy."
"It is all your blessings, Tau ji," she said softly.

Then, right in front of my eyes, Mummy ji reached for the knot of his dhoti.
I gasped. I covered my mouth with my hand. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't. It was like a car crash—horrible, but I couldn't look away.

Mummy ji pulled the cloth aside. Tau ji was not wearing underwear.
"Start," Tau ji ordered.
Mummy ji leaned forward. My religious, vegetarian mother-in-law opened her mouth wide and took him inside.

Slurp.

The sound echoed in the silent room.
I felt a jolt of shock go straight to my groin. Watching her... watching an older woman do this so expertly... it was making me wet. I hated myself for it. I was disgusted, but my nipples were hardening against my kurta again. My breath was coming in short gasps.
Tau ji leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying Sarita’s service. His hand rested on her head, pushing her deeper.

"Good," he groaned. "You haven't forgotten."
Then, he opened his eyes.
He didn't look at Sarita. He looked across the room.
He looked at me.
I froze in the chair.

Tau ji’s eyes traveled over my face, my trembling lips, and landed on my chest. Even under the loose kurta, my breasts were huge. The left one was slightly smaller now, but the right one was massive, leaking a small wet patch onto the white fabric because of the arousal.

Tau ji stared at the wet spot. He licked his lips.

"Is that her?" he asked, his voice thick with pleasure while Sarita continued to bob her head in his lap.
Sarita pulled back for a second, gasping for air. "Yes, Tau ji. That is Disha. The new cow."

"She looks... full," Tau ji said, his eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying hunger. "Very full."

Sarita smiled and went back to work, sucking him harder.

I sat there, unable to move, feeling Tau ji’s gaze stripping me naked. I realized then that Mummy ji was just the appetizer. I was the main course he was waiting for. 

And as I watched his hips move, a part of me—the part that loved the attention, the part that loved being a 'cow'—wondered what it would feel like to be the one on my knees.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 5

The room was filled with the wet, rhythmic sound of Mummy ji serving Tau ji. Slurp. Gulp.
I sat in the chair, my hands gripping the armrests so hard my knuckles turned white. My heart was pounding like a drum, dhak, dhak, dhak. I watched my mother-in-law, a woman I respected, behaving like a hungry servant. Her head was bobbing up and down in Tau ji’s lap. She wasn't just doing it; she was putting her whole soul into it.

Every few seconds, Mummy ji would lift her eyes. She kept looking at Tau ji’s face, checking his expression. She wanted to make sure he was happy. She wanted to be the best.

"Harder," Tau ji grunted, his voice rough. "Use your tongue."

Mummy ji obeyed instantly. She swirled her tongue around him, making a wet, squelching noise that echoed in the silent room.

I felt a strange, hot liquid pooling between my legs. I hated myself for it. I wanted to run away, to grab Vivaan and leave this dirty family. But at the same time... my nipples were tingling. My right breast, which was still full of milk, started to throb. watching the power Tau ji had over her... it was making me weak. It was making me wonder what it felt like to have that kind of power used on me.

" The balls," Tau ji commanded, his breathing getting heavier. "Don't leave them dry."
Mummy ji immediately used one hand to cup his heavy sack while her mouth kept working on the shaft. She hummed with effort, her eyes rolling back slightly.

"Yes," Tau ji groaned, his hands gripping her shoulders. "That’s it, Sarita. Drain me. Take the old man’s load."

I watched, paralyzed, as Tau ji’s body stiffened. He let out a long, deep growl. Mummy ji didn't pull back. She sucked harder, swallowing everything he gave her. She drank him just like she had drunk my milk.
When it was over, Tau ji slumped back on the bed, his chest heaving. Mummy ji cleaned him up with her mouth, leaving him shiny and satisfied. She wiped her lips and looked at him with a proud smile. She had done her job.

Tau ji took a moment to catch his breath. Then, he adjusted his dhoti.
He stood up.
He didn't say thank you to Sarita. He looked past her.
He walked straight towards me.

I shrank back in the chair. "Tau... Tau ji..."

He stood over me. He smelled of sweat, sex, and perfume. He looked huge.

"Stand up," he ordered.

I stood up slowly, my legs shaking. I was wearing the white kurta, but the wet patch on my chest had grown huge. The fabric was transparent now, sticking to my skin.

Tau ji looked at my chest. He looked at the heavy, swollen curve of my right breast that was pressing against the wet cloth.

He didn't ask. He reached out with his rough hand and grabbed my right breast through the kurta.

"Ah!" I gasped.

He squeezed it hard. It was painful, but also electric. My breast was so full that it felt rock hard. He kneaded it like dough, testing the weight, testing the size.

"Heavy," he judged. "Good."

Then, he leaned forward.

He didn't kiss my lips. He brought his face right down to my chest and lifted the Kurta up.

He pressed his tongue against over my nipple.
He licked me.
He licked the milk that was leaking. He licked a long, wet stripe from the bottom of my breast up to my neck. His tongue was rough and hot. I shivered violently, my head falling back.

"Please..." I whispered, not knowing if I was begging him to stop or continue.

Tau ji pulled back. He tasted the milk on his lips. He looked at me, straight in the eyes.

"Yes," he said simply.

He turned to Mummy ji, who was standing by the bed, fixing her saree.

"Tomorrow night," Tau ji announced. "10:00 PM. Send her to my room. Alone."

Mummy ji smiled and nodded. "Yes, Tau ji. She will be there."
Tau ji gave my breast one last, possessive squeeze, then turned and walked out of the room, tapping his walking stick on the floor.

I sank back into the chair, my chest wet with his saliva and my own milk. I looked at Mummy ji. She looked happy. And I... I touched the spot where he had licked me, feeling a terrifying mix of shame and a dark, burning excitement for tomorrow night.

And I forgot that - today I had to attend the Marriage of my Husband's cousin.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 6

The door clicked shut behind Tau ji. The room was silent again, but the smell of his strong perfume and the wet sound of what Mummy ji had done still hung in the air.

I sat there, touching the wet nipple where Tau ji had licked me. My skin felt hot. My nipple was still hard, tingling from the rough texture of his tongue.

Mummy ji stood up and drank a glass of water. She looked normal. Too normal.
"Mummy ji," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Since when? Since when have you been doing... this? And why? Just for land?"

Mummy ji wiped her mouth. She looked at Vivaan sleeping peacefully in the corner of the bed, then she looked at me with tired but strong eyes.

"He takes care of us in troubled times, Disha," she said simply. "You don't know how many times Tau ji saved us. He gave money. He gave support. But men like him... they don't give anything for free."
She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.

"This is what I can tell you right now," she said. "When the time is right, you will know more. But for now... get ready. We only have two hours to assemble for the wedding."
I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly.

"Listen to me carefully," Mummy ji said, her voice turning strict. "Tau ji will now keep an eye on you. He has tasted and he liked it. Make sure you take care of him in the Baraat (procession), in the hotel, and during the Pheras (wedding rounds). Do whatever he asks you to do. If he tells you to hold his stick, hold it. If he tells you to sit in his lap... do that too."

"In public?" I gasped.

"He is the elder," she said. "No one questions him. If you make him happy tonight, tomorrow night will be easier for you."

---

Two hours later, we were downstairs.

I was wearing a deep maroon lehenga. The blouse was cut very low, pushing my heavy, milk-filled breasts upward. I looked like a queen, but inside, I felt like a servant waiting for orders.
The music started. The drums beat loud. Dhum-Dhum-Dhum.

Tau ji was standing at the front, looking grand in his turban. When he saw me, his eyes went straight to my cleavage. He didn't smile. He just nodded.

"Come here, Bahu," he signaled.
I walked over.
"Hold my hand," he ordered. "My knee is hurting. You help me walk."
I took his hand. It was large and rough. He gripped my soft fingers tightly. We walked at the front of the procession.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, leaning close to my ear so no one else could hear over the music. "And very full. I can see them bouncing. Are they hurting?"
"Yes, Tau ji," I whispered back, my face burning. "They are heavy."
"Good," he chuckled darkly. "Keep them heavy for me for tomorrow. Don't let the baby drink too much."

We reached the venue entrance for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. The bride's sisters were standing there, blocking the way, asking for money. Everyone was laughing and bargaining.
Tau ji stood close to me. His arm pressed against my bare waist. His fingers brushed the skin of my stomach, a secret touch in the middle of the crowd.

I looked at him. I needed to know.
"Tau ji," I asked softly, gathering all my courage. "Mummy ji does so much for you. I will do... what you asked. But what do I get in return?"

He looked at me. His eyes twinkled, not with kindness, but with power.

"A cow that gives ordinary milk gets grass," he whispered, his mustache tickling my cheek. "But the cow that gives the sweetest cream... gets to sleep in the master's bedroom. You make me happy, Disha, and you will rule this family. Rajat will just be the husband... but you will be the Queen."

My heart skipped a beat. Rule the family? The power in his voice was intoxicating.
We walked inside.
The wedding rituals started. The fire was lit for the Pheras.
Usually, the women sit behind. But Tau ji patted the cushion next to him.

"Sit here," he commanded.
I sat down, my thigh pressing against his leg. Mummy ji sat a little behind us, holding sleeping Vivaan in her lap. She watched us with a calm, approving look.

As the priest chanted the mantras, Tau ji took my hand again. He placed it on his thigh. Then, he covered my hand with his. To the world, it looked like an elder blessing his daughter-in-law.
But underneath his hand, his thumb was rubbing my palm in a slow, dirty rhythm.
I sat there, watching the fire, feeling the heat on my face and the heavy, possessive weight of the old man’s hand on mine. I was scared, yes. But as I thought about his promise—about being the Queen—I squeezed his hand back.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 7

The fire in the Havan Kund had turned to ash. The chanting stopped. The wedding was officially over.
Amit and Preeti stood up, their clothes tied together with the holy knot. They looked tired but happy. The first thing they did was walk towards Tauji.

They bent down low to touch his feet.
Tauji placed his heavy hand on Amit’s head, and then on Preeti’s head. "Be happy," he said in his deep voice. "Serve the family well."

I stood right next to Tauji, like his shadow. I watched Preeti. She looked so young and innocent. She didn't know yet. She didn't know that in this family, 'service' had a very different meaning.
Then, I looked around. Standing behind Tauji were the other men—my uncles. There was Rakesh Chacha, who was forty-eight with a potbelly. There was Suresh Chacha, who had sharp, cunning eyes. And two others I didn't know well.

They were all looking at me. They were looking at my deep-cut blouse, my heavy chest, and the way I was standing so close to the head of the family. I realized something in that moment. These were the men Papa ji had talked about. The men I might have to sleep with later.

A shiver went down my spine. It was scary, but also... strange. I felt like a prize. If I made Tauji happy—if I really became his favorite—then these other men would have to respect me. I wouldn't just be a shared toy; I would be the Queen who decided who gets to play.

"Disha," Amit smiled at me.
I snapped out of my thoughts. I stepped forward and hugged Amit. "Congratulations, Devar ji."
Then I hugged Preeti. Her jewelry felt cold against my warm skin. "Welcome to the family, Preeti," I whispered. "Good luck."

---

We started moving towards the exit. It was time to go back to the hotel.
A shiny white BMW pulled up for the bride and groom. Amit and Preeti got in, waving at everyone.
I turned towards the parking lot. Our white Innova was waiting. Rajat was already standing by the door, looking tired. Mummy ji was already inside with Vivaan.

I started walking towards Rajat. I just wanted to take off my heavy heels and sleep.
"Disha!"
The voice was loud and commanding. It cut through the noise of the crowd.
I stopped. Rajat stopped.
It was Tauji.

He was standing next to a massive, black Rolls Royce Phantom. It was the most expensive car in the parking lot. A driver in a white uniform was holding the back door open.
Tauji wasn't looking at the car. He was looking at me. He lifted one finger and pointed at the empty seat next to him inside the luxury car.

"You ride with me," Tauji ordered. "I need to discuss the family rituals with you."
I looked at Rajat.
My husband didn't fight. He didn't say, "She is my wife." He didn't even look angry.
Rajat looked at the Rolls Royce, then at Tauji, and then at me. His eyes looked sad, but resigned. He knew exactly what this meant. This was the deal for the land. This was the price for his financial safety.

"Go, Disha," Rajat said softly, opening the door of the Innova for himself. "Tau ji is calling you. Don't make him wait."

My heart hammered in my chest. My husband was sending me away.
I turned around.
Slowly, I walked towards the Rolls Royce.
The parking lot was full of relatives. Cousins, aunts, distant uncles. They all stopped talking. They watched me. They saw Rajat getting into the family car alone, and they saw me—the young, voluptuous Bhabhi—walking towards the old patriarch’s car.

I saw Rakesh Chacha raise his eyebrows and whisper something to Suresh Chacha. They smiled. They knew. Everyone knew where the land was going. They knew who the new favorite was.
I reached the car. I lifted my heavy lehenga slightly to step inside. The smell of expensive leather hit me. The seat was soft as a cloud.
I sat down.

Tauji sat next to me. He filled the space.
The driver closed the door with a solid thud. The world outside disappeared. It was just silence, cool air, and the man who now owned me.
The car started moving smoothly, gliding like a ship.

I looked at Tauji. He was leaning back, his eyes closed, a small smile on his lips.
"Smart girl," he murmured without opening his eyes.
Then, he reached out. He placed his hand on my thigh, right on the silk of my lehenga. He slid his hand up, slowly, deliberately, until his thick fingers were resting on my inner thigh, dangerously close to my center.

"Rajat is a good boy," Tauji whispered. "He knows his place. And tonight... you will know yours."
I didn't push his hand away. I leaned back into the leather seat, feeling the expensive fabric against my skin and the heavy hand of power between my legs. I closed my eyes and let the Rolls Royce carry me to my destiny.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 8

I watched through the tinted window as the white BMW carrying Amit and Preeti turned left towards the hotel. The long line of cars with my family—Rajat, Mummy ji, Sumit—followed them.
But we didn't turn left.
The Rolls Royce went straight.

"Tau ji?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "The hotel is that way."
Tau ji didn't open his eyes. His hand was still resting high on my inner thigh, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh near my crotch.

"I know where the hotel is," he rumbled. "But I changed my mind."
He opened his eyes and looked at me. The hunger in them was raw and terrifying.
"I told Sarita tomorrow night," he said, squeezing my thigh hard. "But after tasting you... after seeing how full you are... I cannot wait for tomorrow. You will sleep with me tonight."
My heart stopped. Tonight?

Panic rushed through me. Not just because of the sex, but because of my grooming. I had planned to take a long bath tomorrow morning. I had planned to shave properly down there. Right now, under my expensive silk panties, I was natural. It wasn't messy, but it wasn't smooth. It was a thick, soft bush.
"Tau ji," I stammered. "I... I am not ready. I mean... I need to shower. I need to prepare..."
"I don't care about perfumes," he cut me off. "I want the natural smell. I want the smell of a mother."
He leaned forward and tapped the glass partition.

"Driver," he commanded. "Take us to the Mansion."
"Yes, Sir," the driver replied instantly.
"And call Ramu," Tau ji added. "Tell him we are coming. Tell him to prepare the Master Suite. I want the oils ready."

The driver nodded and picked up the car phone. "Hello, Ramu? Bade Sahib is coming. Mansion. Twenty minutes. Yes, everything ready."

The Mansion? It sounded big. It sounded like a place where no one could hear you scream... or moan.
Tau ji leaned back and turned to me. He adjusted his dhoti.
"We have twenty minutes," he said, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative growl. "You know what to do. Begin."

I looked at him. "Begin?"
"Make me ready," he ordered, pointing to his lap. "But listen carefully, Disha. Do not make me cum. If you spill even one drop in this car, I will be very angry. Just wake him up. Make him hard for the Mansion."

I had no choice.
I took a deep breath. I moved off the seat and knelt on the plush carpet floor of the moving car. There was plenty of space. It was like a small room.
I reached out and pulled the cloth of his dhoti aside.
He was already half-hard. Thick, heavy, and smelling of musk.
I wrapped my hand around him. He twitched.

"Gently," he hissed.
I started to stroke him. Up and down. I used my thumb to rub the head, just like I had learned from watching Mummy ji.
As I touched him, my own body reacted. The vibration of the car, the fear of the driver hearing us, and the sheer size of the man who owned half the village... it made my head spin. My nipples were rubbing against the inside of my blouse, leaking more milk with every bump in the road.

"Good," Tau ji groaned, his hand landing on my head. "You have soft hands. Better than Sarita’s."
I felt a surge of pride. I was better. I was going to be the favorite.
I leaned forward and licked the tip, just once.
"Ah!" Tau ji gripped my hair. "Careful. Don't finish it."

I pulled back and went back to using my hand, stroking him in a steady rhythm. I watched his face. I watched for the signs. I had to keep him on the edge—hard, throbbing, and desperate—but hold him back.

"I didn't shave," I thought again, worrying as his other hand slid under my lehenga to check my wetness.
His fingers found the hair. He didn't pull away. He groaned louder.

"Hairy," he whispered, a dirty smile spreading on his face. "Just like a village woman. I love it."
I let out a breath of relief. He liked it.

We drove into the night, away from my husband, away from the wedding, towards the Mansion. I knelt at his feet, pumping him slowly, preparing him knowing that he would claim me completely in twenty minutes.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 9

The Rolls Royce slowed down near the big iron gates.
I was still on my knees on the car floor, holding Tauji’s hardness in my hands. I looked at his face. His eyes were closed, enjoying the sensation. 

I took a deep breath. I told myself, "I am doing this for my family. I am doing this so Rajat doesn't lose the land. I cannot let them down."

I leaned forward and took the tip of his member into my mouth. I didn't suck hard. I just tasted him softly and gently, swirling my tongue like a good Bahu serving her elder. I kept checking his face to make sure he was happy but not close to finishing.

"Enough," he grunted, pulling my hair gently. "We have reached."

The car stopped. The driver opened the door.
Tauji stepped out. He didn't fix his clothes. The front of his white dhoti was lifted up like a tent because of his erection. He didn't care. He walked with pride, showing his power. He held his heavy wooden stick in one hand and grabbed my hand tightly with the other.

We walked up the stairs of the huge Mansion. I felt small and nervous.
Inside the main hall, Tauji stopped.

"I have a way, Disha," he said in his heavy voice. "My own way of doing things. So follow it."
He pointed his stick towards the living area.

"Pick one woman," he ordered. "from the women that stay here. Remember, only one."
I looked up and froze.

"Pick one woman?" I repeated, my voice shaking. "But why, Tauji? I... I can't be doing this. This is above what we discussed in the car."

I pulled my hand back slightly. "I am shy, Tauji. I don't know if I can do this or not. Please."
Tauji didn't listen. He just smiled a cruel smile. "Look first."

I looked at the room. My mind was blown.
It was like a scene from a movie. There were maybe 10 or 20 women lounging on the sofas. And they were stunning. They were not from our village or city. They were from all over the world. It was a harem.
I saw a tall, beautiful African woman with braided hair. I saw a curvy Latina girl with golden skin. I saw a delicate girl with pale skin and straight black hair.

They all looked at me. They didn't look sad; they looked like they were waiting for instructions.
"Pick one that you like," Tauji said again, tapping his stick on the floor.
My heart was racing. I had no choice. If I said no, he would get angry. If he got angry, we would lose everything.

My eyes stopped on the pale girl. She looked quiet and sweet, less intimidating than the others.
"That... that Japanese girl," I whispered, pointing a trembling finger.
Tauji looked at her and nodded. "Good choice. She is an actress. She works for JAV—Japanese Adult Video. Her name is Kagura Momoka."

He lifted his stick and pointed it straight at her.
Kagura stood up immediately. She bowed her head politely.

"Follow us," Tauji commanded.

He pulled me towards the big bedroom. I kept looking back over my shoulder. Kagura was following us quietly. She caught my eye and gave me a soft, gentle smile. It was a comforting smile, but I was still terrified. I had no idea what was going on.

We entered the master bedroom. It was huge, with mirrors everywhere and a giant bed.
Tauji walked to a big armchair and sat down. He spread his legs wide.
"Now," he said, looking at me and then at Kagura. "I want to watch."
"Watch?" I asked, confused.
"I want to watch you and Kagura Momoka," he said clearly. "I want to see my Indian Bahu playing with her."

I stood in horror. My hands covered my mouth. Me? With a woman? While my husband's uncle watched?
"I can't..." I started to cry. "Tauji, please..."

But before Tauji could get angry, Kagura stepped forward.
She came close to me. She smelled like fresh flowers. She reached out and held my shaking hands. Her skin was so soft.

"It is okay," she whispered in broken English. "Don't be scared. I will help you."
She gently touched my cheek, wiping a tear away. Her touch was so loving and gentle, not rough like the men.

"Relax," Kagura smiled, her eyes kind. "Just breathe. I make you comfortable."
She began to rub my shoulders softly, easing the tension, while Tauji sat in his chair, leaning forward, waiting for the show to begin.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 10

I stood frozen in the middle of the room. My heart was beating so fast I thought I would faint.
But Kagura didn't rush. She stood in front of me, looking into my eyes. I started looking up at her face. I looked at her pink lips, her large innocent eyes, her smooth neck, and her chest. She was beautiful—no doubt about it. She looked like a doll. But I had my boundaries. I was a housewife, a mother.
Then, she started touching me.

Her hands were cool and soft. She touched my forearms first, sliding her fingers gently over my skin. Then she touched my back, rubbing in circles. Then her hand moved to my stomach. Finally, she cupped my cheeks.
"It's ok," she whispered, her voice like honey. "I won't hurt you. It is just love."
Slowly, my body started to relax. I got comfortable. The fear started to melt away, replaced by a strange heat.

"Touch me," she whispered, taking my hands.
She put my hands on her chest. I felt shy. I tried to pull back, but she held my hands there.
"Press," she said.

I pressed gently. Her breasts were soft and big, very different from mine but very nice. I felt a jolt of electricity. My body was telling me something else. It wasn't saying "stop." It was saying "more."
Then, Kagura looked down. She saw the two big wet patches on my maroon blouse where the milk had leaked.
"Omg," she whispered, her eyes widening with excitement.
She moved my hands away and looked at me with a hungry, needy look.
"You are my mom," she said.
She wanted to do roleplay with me. She dropped to her knees in front of me. She pulled my heavy breast out of the blouse.
"Feed me, Mom," she begged.
I couldn't say no. I closed my eyes and put her head in my lap. I let her mouth and tongue take my nipple.

Slurp.

She sucked eagerly. It felt amazing. I gasped, threading my fingers through her silky black hair. I gave her my sweet milk, letting it flow into her mouth.
Tauji stood up from his chair. He walked over to watch closely. He saw his Indian Bahu feeding the Japanese actress.
He didn't wait further. He wanted Kagura.
He stepped behind Kagura while she was still on her knees suckling me. He lifted her silk robe. He didn't ask. He just pushed himself inside her from behind.
"Ah!" Kagura moaned, but she didn't stop drinking.
This happened for three minutes. I watched Tauji pounding Kagura while Kagura drained my breast. It was wild. It was dirty. And I loved it.
Then, Tauji pulled out.
"Bed," he ordered breathless. "Both of you. Love me."
He lay down on the giant bed on his back.
"You," he pointed at me. "Up here."
I crawled over him. I put my heavy, milk-filled chest right in front of his mouth.
"And you," he pointed at Kagura. "Down there."
Kagura went to his feet and took his hardness into her mouth.
Tauji grabbed my breasts. He pulled my face down to his. I felt his rough mustache tickling my sensitive skin, scratching against my chest. But then his tongue came out. It did the magic. He licked and sucked, swirling around my nipple while Kagura bobbed her head on his lap.
"Sit," Tauji groaned, guiding my hips. "Sit on my face, Disha."
I was shocked, but I was too far gone to stop. I lifted my heavy lehenga skirt and lowered myself onto his face.
He used his tongue on me. He licked me right there.
"Oh god!" I screamed.
The sensation of his tongue, the sound of Kagura sucking him below, and the feeling of being worshiped by the head of the family... it was too much.
I released my climax. My body shook violently, grinding against his face, while my milk sprayed onto his cheeks.
At the same moment, Tauji groaned loudly. Kagura had done her work. He released and relaxed, his body going limp on the bed.
We all three slept together on that big bed, tangled in silk sheets and sweat.

---

In the morning, I woke up early. Tauji was still snoring.
I quickly dressed and fixed my hair. I walked downstairs. A car was ready to take me back to the hotel.
As I sat in the back seat, I saw a brown envelope lying there.
I opened it.
There were property papers inside.
He was generous. He gave me a gentle piece of land in a prime area. I checked the details. The current market value was 2 Crores.
My heart leaped with joy. 2 Crores! This would secure Vivaan’s future forever.
But then I read the fine print at the bottom.

"Conditions Apply: Transfer of ownership only upon death of current holder. Must be countersigned and approved by witnesses: Mr. Rakesh and Mr. Suresh."

My stomach dropped. I knew what it meant.

The papers were real, but they were useless without the signatures. I needed the signatures of the other uncles—Rakesh Chacha and Suresh Chacha.

I looked out the window as the car started moving. I realized the game wasn't over. It had just begun. To get this land, I would have to make the other uncles just as happy as I had made Tauji.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 11

The car hummed smoothly along the highway back to Delhi, the city lights beginning to flicker in the distance like scattered stars. I sat in the back seat, the brown envelope clutched tightly in my lap, the property papers inside feeling heavier than my still-aching breasts. Tauji had given me this—2 crores worth, he said—but the fine print haunted me: signatures needed from Rakesh Chacha and Suresh Chacha. I had no idea who they really were beyond fleeting glimpses at the wedding, distant uncles who had stared a little too long. My mind raced. I couldn't do this alone. I needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them without judgment or games.

I arrived at the house around midnight. The joint family home was quiet, the usual chaos muted by exhaustion from the wedding trip. Vivaan was already asleep in his crib, tended by the maid. Rajat had texted he was at the office late—some urgent meeting. Convenient, I thought bitterly. I slipped into Mummy ji and Papa ji's room without knocking.

Mummy ji was sitting on the bed, brushing her long hair, still in her simple night saree. Papa ji was reading a newspaper, glasses low on his nose. They both looked up, surprised but not alarmed.

"Disha beta?" Mummy ji said softly, setting the brush aside. "You're back so soon? Tau ji let you go early?"
I didn't answer with words. I just pulled out the envelope and placed it on the bed between them.
Papa ji picked it up first, unfolding the papers. His eyes widened behind the glasses. Mummy ji leaned over, reading silently. Then she gasped—a real, sharp intake of breath.

"Two crores... in your name?" she whispered. "Already transferred conditionally?"
Papa ji let out a low whistle. "In twenty-five years of marriage, I never got even a single acre signed over like this. Not even after... everything."

Mummy ji's hand trembled slightly as she touched the paper. "How did you do it, beta? What did you give him that we haven't?"
I sat on the edge of the bed, my lehenga still crumpled from the night before. "I gave him what he wanted. And more. But it's not enough. Look at the bottom."

They read the condition. Mummy ji's face hardened, then softened with something like pride.
"Tau ji is clever," Papa ji said, folding the papers carefully. "He dangles the carrot but ties it with chains. Rakesh and Suresh—they've been his shadows since childhood. Their wives, their daughters... they've all served him longer than anyone."
I looked between them. "How much property are we actually talking about? He said 2 crores, but... this feels like pocket change."
Mummy ji laughed—a short, surprised sound that turned into something deeper, almost relieved. Papa ji joined her, shaking his head.

"Thousands of crores, beta," Papa ji said quietly. "Villages, farmland, commercial plots in three states. Tau ji never married, never had children of his own. He kept everything in his name, saying it belonged to the family bloodline. But he made one rule: whoever pleases him most through the ritual, the service, the complete surrender, gets the largest share. The rest goes to charity if no one rises above the others. He's been testing us for decades."

My mouth went dry. "And the signatures? Why Rakesh Chacha and Suresh Chacha?"
Papa ji leaned back against the headboard. "When the six of us brothers were young, Tau ji(My father's elder brother) divided the early responsibilities. Rakesh and Suresh were the eldest after him—they took care of him when our father died young. Their wives nursed him through illnesses, their daughters learned the 'family ways' early. I was the youngest, married late. I got less time to prove myself. The other two—Naresh and Dinesh—they handle the day-to-day land management now, the tenants, the accounts. We don't need their signatures yet. But Rakesh and Suresh... their approval is Tau ji's final gatekeeper for any major transfer."

I swallowed. "Tell me about Rakesh Chacha. And Neha Bhabhi—his wife? You said they've been taking care of Tau ji from the beginning. But why did Tau ji end up with everything? Why didn't the land get divided equally like normal families?"
Papa ji exchanged a long look with Mummy ji. She nodded slightly, giving permission.

"It's a long story, beta," Papa ji began, his voice dropping low, almost reverent. "And, like everything in this family. Sit closer."
I shifted nearer. Mummy ji poured me a glass of water from the bedside jug.

"Forty years ago," Papa ji continued, "our father who was Tau ji's younger brother, died suddenly in a tractor accident. Tau ji, unmarried, the eldest, and the strongest. The land was in our grandfather's name, but after our father's death he willed it in Tau ji's name. After the accident, Tau ji became the owner of the entire inheritance.

"He said the land needed one strong hand to protect it from outsiders—greedy relatives, government officials, land mafias circling the villages back then. He claimed he would hold it in trust for all of us. But there was a deeper reason.
"Tau ji had... appetites. Strong ones. Our mother, his bhabhi—had always been close to him, almost like a sister-wife in the old traditions. After our father died, she turned to Tau ji for comfort. It started innocently—nursing him when he fell ill with malaria, sleeping in his room to watch over him. But one night, grief and loneliness turned into something else. She offered herself fully. Tau ji took her, night after night, while we children slept in other rooms. She became his first 'cow'—full, willing, producing milk even though she had stopped breastfeeding years earlier. He drank from her like it was nectar, saying it gave him strength to guard the land.

"The other brothers—especially Rakesh and Suresh—saw this. They didn't fight it. Instead, they encouraged their own wives to join. Rakesh's wife(Neha Bhabhi) was young and beautiful then; she went to Tau ji willingly, saying it was her duty to keep the family united. Suresh's wife(Suman Bhabhi) followed. Their daughters(Tania and Khushi), when they grew up—were taught the same. Tau ji never forced anyone, but he rewarded loyalty. Every time a woman pleased him, he added a small plot or a shop in their husband's name. But the bulk remained with him.

"Our father’s little share? Tau ji absorbed it legally through 'gifts' and 'trust deeds,' saying it was to protect us from taxes and disputes. Over time, as the land value exploded—Delhi expansion, highways, malls—he became the sole owner on paper. We all lived well—houses, cars, education—but the power stayed with him. The ritual became the test: who could satisfy him most completely would inherit the empire little by little and the rest would go... to charity."

Mummy ji touched my arm gently. "I tried for years, beta. I gave him my milk, my body, everything. But I was late to the game. Rakesh and Suresh's families had decades of head start. You... you've done in one night what I couldn't in twenty-five."

I stared at the papers. Thousands of crores. A dynasty hanging on my body, my milk, my willingness to bend... or to break them.
"So what now?" I asked, my voice steady for the first time. "How do we get Rakesh Chacha's signature?"
Papa ji smiled slowly. "We make a plan. But first, you rest. Tomorrow, we start. Rakesh is the key—he's proud, traditional, but weak for youth and sweetness. Neha Bhabhi(Rakesh's wife)... she's different, bitter. But their daughters(Tania and Khushi) still tied to her father. Use that."

Mummy ji squeezed my hand. "You've already surprised us, Disha. Now surprise them."
I nodded, feeling the weight shift—not just on my chest, but in my mind. This wasn't submission anymore. This was conquest.
And I was just beginning.