Incest Disha:Lactating mom(Kamadhenu cow)- Exploited by Elders-Gold Grade Scenes-25*|1 Video

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Scene 15

Papa ji finally pulled his face away from between my legs, leaving me shaking and totally exposed.  
My breath came in short, sharp gasps. My body felt wide open, soaking wet, and aching for something to fill the emptiness inside.  

Mummy ji wiped her mouth, still tasting my milk on her lips. She tightened the black leather harness around her hips. The pink silicone cock stuck straight out, looking scary in the dim light.  

"Now let me slide it in," Mummy ji said, her voice firm and in control. She knelt between my spread legs, taking Papa ji's place. "I know you're dripping wet, Disha. We'll do this regularly now, so I can get you ready. Neha Bhabhi won't go easy on you, so I can't either. Alright?"  

She didn't wait for my answer. She grabbed my hips tight.  

"Let me push it in," she whispered, lining it up. "Tell me how it feels."  

She pushed forward.  
I gasped as the thick silicone head stretched me open. It wasn't warm like a real cock, but it was hard and wouldn't bend. She slid it inside me, inch by inch, filling me up completely.  

"Oh!" I cried out.  

It felt... incredible. It hit that perfect spot that needed it so bad.  

I didn't push her away. Instead, I reached up, grabbed her, and pulled Mummy ji down for a desperate, hungry kiss. I hugged her close, wrapping my legs around her waist to pull her even deeper.  

She kissed me back fiercely, grinding her hips against mine. I was so wet that my juices leaked out, soaking the sheets in a messy puddle.  

"Good," Mummy ji mumbled against my lips. "Now, let me speed up."  

She picked up the pace. Schlock. Schlock. The wet slapping sounds of our bodies filled the room, a rhythm of pure, raw lust.  

Papa ji stood at the edge of the bed, watching his wife pound his daughter in law. His breathing was rough and uneven. He couldn't just stand there anymore.  

"Sarita," Papa ji groaned, his voice breaking. "I can't hold back."  

He climbed onto the bed behind Mummy ji. No waiting, he yanked out his cock, rock-hard and throbbing with need.  

He grabbed Mummy ji's waist.  

"Oh!" Mummy ji gasped, her eyes popping wide as he shoved it into her from behind without warning.  

Mummy ji was shocked. She glanced back over her shoulder, her face red and flushed. "I haven't felt you this hard in years..."  

"Shut up," Papa ji growled, grabbing her hair. "Shut up and let me fuck you hard. Today is the day. I've been waiting for this. For her to join us."  

He started thrusting.  

It was a chain of pure pleasure. Papa ji pounded Mummy ji from behind, and every slam pushed her deeper into me.  

He went faster. Bam. Bam. Bam.  

"Yes!" Papa ji roared.  

Mummy ji moaned, stuck in the middle, but she kept thrusting into me. I looked up at her. Our eyes locked. We started kissing again, wild, sloppy, and out of control.  

My chest was smashed. My nipples, still super sensitive and leaking, sprayed milk again. It made our chests slippery, mixing with the sweat as the three of us rocked together like one twisted, horny machine on the family bed.

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Scene 16

The room was spinning. The only thing holding me to the earth was the heavy weight of Mummy ji on top of me and the relentless rhythm of the pink strap on inside me.  

"Now for the finale," Mummy ji panted, sweat dripping from her forehead onto my nose. "Full speed! Let me know how close you are, my cow!"  

She didn't wait for an answer. She started grinding her hips furiously. Slap. Slap. Slap. The friction was unbearable in the best way. I was thrashing my head on the pillow, my hands gripping the sheets so hard my nails were tearing the fabric.  

"I'm close!" I gasped. "Mummy ji, I'm close!"  

But suddenly, Mummy ji stiffened. She looked back over her shoulder.  

Papa ji was groaning loudly behind her, his movements becoming jerky and desperate.  

"Stop it!" Mummy ji shouted at him. "You are in my ass! You didn't even wear a condom! Pull out!"  

Papa ji didn't listen. He couldn't hear her. He let out a long, guttural roar and shoved himself deep into her backside one last time, holding her hips in a death grip.  

"Oh god!" Mummy ji winced, feeling the warm flood inside her.  

He held it there for a few seconds, shaking, before finally pulling out with a wet sound. He slumped back for a second, catching his breath.  

Mummy ji glared at him, even though she was still inside me. "You old fool," she scolded breathlessly. "You should have waited for Bahu to finish first. Now look at the mess."  

Papa ji didn't apologize. He stood up. He walked around the bed, his legs shaky but his eyes focused. He was still half hard, glistening and dirty from where he had just been.  

He stood right close to my face. He looked down at me. I was trapped, Mummy ji pounding away below, and Papa ji looming above.  

I saw what he wanted.  

"No," I pleaded, shaking my head violently. "No, no, Papa ji... don't do it. Please."  

My heart was hammering. I was terrified. It was too dirty. He had just been inside his wife’s rear, and now he wanted me?  

Papa ji didn't care about my protests. To him, I was just the vessel to be used, the land to be conquered.  

"Bahu," he said, his voice rough and commanding. "Please clean it."  

He didn't wait. He grabbed the back of my head with one hand to hold me steady. He pushed his cock straight into my open mouth.  

"Mmph!" I gagged.  

I was horrified. The taste was overwhelming, shit, sweat, and the raw scent of their marriage. Tears pricked my eyes from the humiliation.  

But then... the shock hit my brain.  

The feeling of being completely filled, Mummy ji stretching me down below and Papa ji filling my throat, flipped a switch in my head. I wasn't just Disha anymore. I was the family slut. I was the property.  

The degradation gave me a massive kick.  

"Do it!" Mummy ji screamed, sensing my change, pounding into me harder than ever. "Cum for us!"  

My body tightened like a bowstring. The vibration of Papa ji in my mouth and the thrusting of Mummy ji in my womb collided.  

"MMMMPH!"  

I screamed into Papa ji’s flesh. I let it out. My climax hit me like a train. I shook violently, my toes curling, my insides clamping down on Mummy ji’s strap on while I sucked desperately on Papa ji, cleaning him just like a good Bahu with my tongue, tears streaming down my face as I drowned in the family’s madness.

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Scene 17


The room finally went quiet. The only sound was the heavy breathing of three people who had just crossed every line of decency.  

I lay there, staring at the ceiling fan spinning above. My mouth tasted salty and bitter. My chest felt bruised. And down below, I still felt the fullness of Mummy ji inside me.  

Mummy ji wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead. She looked at Papa ji, then down at me. Her face softened, returning to the motherly look she wore in the kitchen, which was even more terrifying given our position.  

"He always does that," she whispered, stroking my hair. "Please don't get mad at him. Men are like animals when they see two women together. But tell me... how was your first time?"  

I couldn't believe she was asking me for a review while still pinning me to the mattress.  

"Mummy ji..." I gasped, trying to find my voice. "Please let me breathe first. And... you can take it out now. It is still inside."  

Mummy ji smiled a small, knowing smile. "Ah, the emptiness. You will get used to craving it."  

She grabbed her hips. She began to pull back.  

Schhh luck.  

I grit my teeth. The sensation of the thick silicone head dragging along my walls and popping out was intense. It left me feeling suddenly hollow, gaping, and cold.  

"This is the thing, Bahu," Mummy ji said seriously, unbuckling the harness from her waist. "You need to understand Neha Bhabhi is a whole another beast. I was gentle. I was loving. Neha... she likes to conquer. But we will leave that for the rest of the sessions."  

I sat up, pulling the bedsheet to cover my nakedness. My body was shaking, not from cold, but from the adrenaline crash.  

"Please get off, Mummy ji," I said, my voice trembling. "I need to talk to Rajat. He will be home soon."  

Mummy ji nodded. She got off the bed and started picking up her saree.  

I stood up, wrapping the sheet around me. I needed to escape this room. I needed to be Disha again, not the family toy.  

Papa ji was standing by the door. He was exuberant. He looked ten years younger, his chest puffed out with pride. He had watched his wife and his daughter in law perform for him, and he had tasted both.  

As I walked past him towards the door, he stepped in my path.  

He leaned in close. I could smell the musk on him.  

"I like it behind," he whispered directly into my ear, his hot breath sending a shiver of disgust and fear down my spine. "This is what I like. Remember that... till next time."  

He winked, a dirty, possessive wink, and stepped aside.  

I didn't look back. I walked out of the room, my legs feeling heavy and strange.  

I went to my own room. Thank god, it was empty. Vivaan was still sleeping peacefully in his crib.  

I went straight to the bathroom. I turned the shower to hot. I stood under the water for twenty minutes. I scrubbed my skin red. I brushed my teeth three times to get rid of the taste of Papa ji. I washed my privates, watching the mixture of my own juices and Mummy ji’s touch swirl down the drain.  

I stepped out and dried myself. I put on a simple cotton nighty, loose and covering. I wanted to hide my body.  

I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.  

I heard the front door open. Footsteps. The jingle of keys.  

Rajat was back.  

I took a deep breath. I clutched the edge of the mattress. I needed to talk to him. I needed to tell him about the property papers, about the conditions, and about the price I was paying piece by piece. I needed my husband, not the silent partner in this madness.

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Scene 18


The bedroom door clicked shut. Rajat locked it. He looked exhausted. His shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his neck. He didn't come to hug me. He walked straight into the corner and took a bottle of water.  

"Rajat," I whispered, my voice trembling. "We need to talk."  

He chugged the water and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a distance from me. He saw the property papers lying on the side table. He didn't pick them up. He just stared at them.  

"I know," he said, his voice flat. "Mummy ji texted me. Two crores. Conditional."  

"Conditional?" I snapped, the anger finally bubbling up. "Do you know what the condition is? Do you know what I had to do? And do you know what I have to do next?"  

Rajat rubbed his face with his hands. "Disha, listen. You don't know the full story. You don't know why we are so desperate."  

"Then tell me!" I cried. "I am selling my body piece by piece, Rajat! I deserve to know!"  

Rajat looked at me, his eyes full of shame but also resignation.  

"It was a mess, Disha. Five years ago. Papa ji made a bad investment. A very bad one. He gambled with company money. We were going to lose this house, the car, everything. We would have been on the street. I would have gone to jail for fraud."  

I covered my mouth. "What?"  

"Tauji fixed it," Rajat said quietly. "He paid off the debts. He silenced the security officer. But he took everything in return. He controls everything. He owns us, Disha. His power over us is absolute. If we don't please him... he pulls the plug. We lose everything."  

He pointed at the papers.  

"That paper is our only way out. If you get those signatures from Rakesh Chacha and Suresh Chacha... we get assets. We get freedom. Without it, we are just servants."  

"So you are pimping me out?" I asked, tears streaming down my face.  

"I am securing our son's future!" Rajat hissed. "Next week, we have to travel. We are going to Rakesh Chacha’s farmhouse. I will drive. You, me, and Vivaan."  

"To Neha Bhabhi?" I shuddered, remembering Mummy ji’s warning. "And their daughters?"  

"Yes," Rajat nodded. "They are... wild. But you have to handle them."  

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to tell him.  

"Rajat," I sobbed. "Do you know what happened here? Just an hour ago? Mummy ji... she... she used a plastic thing on me. A strap on. She pounded me like a man. And Papa ji... he watched. He licked me. He made me suck him afterwards to clean him! It was disgusting!"  

I waited for him to get angry. I waited for him to stand up and say he would kill his father for touching his wife.  

Rajat didn't move. He looked down at the floor.  

"Coward," I whispered.  

"Just do what Mummy ji tells you to do," Rajat said, his voice barely audible. "She knows the game better than anyone. If she is training you... it means she thinks you can win."  

"You want me to do that again?" I screamed.  

Rajat looked up. His eyes were cold now.  

"Did you hate it?" he asked.  

I froze. "What?"  

"You are crying now," Rajat said, standing up and walking towards me. "But tell me the truth. Did you hate it? How much did you scream?"  

My face burned hot. "Rajat..."  

"You enjoyed it? Yes?" he pressed, his voice rising. "So stop crying, Disha. Stop acting like a victim."  

"I..." I stammered. I couldn't lie. My body had enjoyed it. The shame was eating me alive, but the pleasure had been real.  

"You just want the property," I spat back, trying to defend myself.  

Rajat grabbed my shoulders. He shook me gently.  

"You just made 2 crores in one day, Disha," he said intensely. "People work for 20 years and don't make that kind of money. Imagine how much more you can make. If you get Rakesh Chacha... if you get Suresh Chacha... we could have hundreds of crores. We could be kings."  

He let go of me.  

"Start cooperating," he said firmly. "Get some sleep. We leave next week."  

He turned off the lights and got into bed, turning his back to me.  

I lay there in the dark, staring at his back. I hated him. I hated his greed. But as I touched the 2 crore papers on the nightstand, I realized I was trapped. I had tasted the money, and I had tasted the pleasure.  

I wiped my tears. I would go on the next mission. I would face Neha Bhabhi. But deep down, I knew the night wasn't over. Mummy ji had said we would practice daily. I knew she would be coming for me again tomorrow, and a part of me... a dark, twisted part of me... was already waiting for it.

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Scene 19

The morning sun streamed into the dining room, lighting up the plates of aloo parathas and bowls of curd. It looked like a perfect, happy family breakfast. But the air was thick with the smell of secrets.  

I was in the kitchen, pouring hot tea into cups. My body felt heavy. My thighs were sore from the strap on, and my jaw ached slightly from where Papa ji had finished. I could hear every word they were saying at the table.  

Mummy ji was sitting right next to Rajat. She wasn't eating. She was stroking his arm, looking at him with an intensity that made my stomach turn.  

"My handsome son," she cooed, buttering his toast. "Without you, we would have been gone, lost on the streets. You are the one holding this roof up. Tell her to cooperate, beta. She listens to you."  

I gripped the handle of the tea pan. They were talking about me like I was an object, an object that can used for pleasure and fulfilment of desire.  

"You don't worry, Mom," Rajat replied, his voice calm and chewing on a bite of paratha. "Disha understands the stakes now. She will take care of it."  

Papa ji walked in then. He looked fresh, bathed, and ready for business. He sat on the other side of Rajat. He didn't look at me bringing the tea. He looked straight at his son.  

"We got 2 crores, Rajat," Papa ji said, tapping his finger on the wooden table. "But it is just paper right now. We can get loans on this contract. The bank manager is my old friend, he will release the funds once we get Rakesh and Suresh's signatures on the witness line."  

"I know, Papa," Rajat said, wiping his mouth. "Give me 3 months. I have planned the trips. First Rakesh Chacha, then Suresh Chacha. I will get it done."  

I walked over and placed the tea cups on the table. Clink. Clink.  

Mummy ji looked up at me. Her eyes sparkled with a dark, teasing light.  

"Good morning, Bahu," she smiled. Then, right in front of the men, she asked, "Did you enjoy it yesterday? Hmm? The way you screamed... it sounded like you enjoyed it very much."  

My face burned hot. I looked at Rajat. He didn't defend me. He just sipped his tea, looking at his phone.  

"I..." I stammered. "I need to check on Vivaan."  

I turned around and practically ran to my bedroom. I couldn't stand their eyes. Vivaan was awake in his crib, kicking his legs. He was hungry.  

"Oh, baby," I whispered, picking him up. "You are the only good thing here."  

I heard the front door open.  

"I am leaving," Rajat called out. "I'm going to the bank and then the lawyer."  

"Go, beta," Mummy ji’s voice floated from the living room. "You handle the money. I will take care of Disha."  

The door slammed shut. Thud.  

My heart sank. Rajat was gone. I was alone with them again.  

I sat on the bed, unbuttoning my blouse to feed Vivaan. As he latched on, I saw a shadow fall across the doorway.  

Mummy ji was leaning against the doorframe. She was watching me feed the baby. She wasn't smiling anymore. She looked focused. Like a coach looking at an athlete.  

"I knew what was going to happen today," I thought, trembling slightly. "Another training session. Probably something new that Mummy ji wants me to learn."  

I looked up at her.  

"What do you have in mind for today?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, trying to sound brave.  

Mummy ji walked slowly into the room. She stood over me, looking down at my exposed breast and the baby.  

"Something you can't imagine," she replied softly. "Yesterday was about pleasure, Disha. Today... today is about pain. Neha Bhabhi likes her toys rough. Finish feeding him quickly. We start in ten minutes."

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Scene 20

The morning sun was already up, but Vivaan had just drifted off to sleep. I gently pulled him away from my breast and placed him back in the crib. I reached for my blouse to button it up, to hide my heavy, milk stained chest.  

But Mummy ji didn't wait.  

She walked straight at me before I could cover myself. Her eyes were fixed on my open blouse. Behind her, Papa ji stepped into the room. He was carrying a different box today, black and sleek.  

Click.  

He locked the bedroom door.  

My heart started pounding hard against my ribs. I looked at the black box in his hands.  

"What is this?" I asked, my voice rising in panic. "More toys? What kind of training is this, Papa ji?"  

Mummy ji stepped close, trapping me between the crib and the bed. She reached out and brushed her finger against my wet nipple.  

"First, let me set the mood, my dear cow," she purred, her voice low and hypnotic. "Let's have a taste, shall we? And Papa ji also has his desires for today. He felt left out yesterday."  

I tried to back away, but the crib was behind me. "Mummy ji, please... it's morning. The maid is outside..."  

"The maid is cleaning the terrace," Papa ji said, placing the box on the bed. "She won't hear a thing."  

He didn't sit in the corner today. He didn't just watch. He walked right up to me.  

Mummy ji didn't waste another second. She leaned down and took my right breast into her mouth.  

Slurp.  

She latched on with that familiar, powerful suction.  

"Ah!" I gasped, grabbing her shoulders to push her away. "Stop..."  

But then Papa ji moved. He came up behind me. I felt his chest press against my back. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me in place.  

"Don't resist, Disha," he whispered in my ear, his stubble scratching my neck. "Just feel."  

He reached around with his hands and grabbed my left breast, the one Mummy ji wasn't drinking from. He squeezed it hard, kneading the soft flesh with his rough fingers.  

I tried to squirm, to twist away from this sandwich of bodies. "No! Let me go!"  

But their coordination was perfect. Mummy ji sucked harder, sending waves of electric pleasure straight to my core. Papa ji started kissing the back of my neck, his wet lips moving down to my shoulder.  

"You smell so good," he groaned. "Like a new mother."  

He moved his hand down from my chest. He slid his hand under my saree and panties.  

I clamped my legs together. "Papa ji, don't!"  

He laughed softly against my skin. He forced his hand between my thighs. He found the wetness that was already there, betraying me.  

"Your mouth says no," he whispered, rubbing my sensitive spot through my panties. "But this... this says yes."  

Little by little, my resistance began to melt. My head fell back onto Papa ji's shoulder. My hands stopped pushing Mummy ji away and started holding her head closer. I was trapped between my husband's parents, being used, tasted, and touched in every forbidden place. And god help me, as the milk flowed and the friction increased, I stopped fighting and let them take what they wanted.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 21


I was trapped between them, my breath catching as their hands roamed all over my body. Mummy ji finally pulled her mouth away from my breast with a wet, smacking sound. She looked into my eyes, her face flushed with lust and a strange, twisted affection.  

"Bahu," she whispered, stroking my cheek. "We love you so much. Why do you behave like this? Why do you fight? We are not just family anymore. Now... we are lovers."  

She looked down at my chest. My right nipple was angry red, swollen, and hard from yesterday's abuse and this morning's session. It looked bigger than its normal size when compared to the left one.  

"Look at this," she murmured, tracing the areola with her fingernail. "It is beautiful. It is mine now."  

She leaned in close, her hot breath hitting the sensitive skin. "I will suck it till it is perfectly red. I will make it permanent."  

"Stop, Mummy ji," I whimpered, trying to cover myself with my hands. "Can't you see it is already swollen? It hurts. Please stop."  

"Pain is part of the training," she smiled.  

She didn't stop. She dove back in, biting down gently this time before sucking with renewed force.  

"Ahhh!" I cried out.  

My knees gave way. We collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of limbs. I was on my back. Mummy ji was hovering over my chest, feasting on me. Papa ji was right there, pressing his body against my side. He was into what he wanted. His hand was under my panties, his fingers moving rhythmically against my wetness, ignoring my weak attempts to push him away. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the dual sensation of pain in my chest and pleasure between my legs, and just let him do what he wanted.  

After a few minutes, Mummy ji sat up. She reached for the black box Papa ji had brought.  

"Pay attention, Disha," she commanded, her voice breathless.  

She opened the lid. Inside, there wasn't a strap on this time. There were vibrating toys. A purple wand and a small, remote controlled egg.  

"Neha Bhabhi likes control," Mummy ji explained, picking up the egg. "She will put this inside you and keep the remote. You have to learn to walk, talk, and serve tea while this vibrates inside you."  

I stared at the toys, horrified yet fascinated. "Inside... all day?"  

While I was looking at Mummy ji, Papa ji didn't stop. He had moved behind my back. He was kissing my shoulder, his hand creeping up to fondle my other breast.  

I pushed him away with my elbow. "Papa ji, stop! I am listening to Mummy ji!"  

He chuckled darkly. "Bahu...You are so wet. I cannot stop now."  

Mummy ji saw me pushing him. She smiled. 

She climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. She turned on the purple wand. Bzzt. Bzzt. The sound filled the room.  

She pressed the vibrating head straight against my clit, right through my panties.  

She removed my saree and my petticoat throwing it on the ground.

"OH GOD!" I screamed, my back arching off the mattress.  

At the same moment, Papa ji lunged forward. He grabbed my face and crushed his mouth onto mine.  

I resisted, trying to turn my head, trying to breathe. But Mummy ji was grinding the wand into my sweet spot, sending blinding sparks through my nerves, and Papa ji was devouring my mouth with his tongue.  

I was surrounded. Overpowered.  

My resistance broke. I went limp. I closed my eyes and let them take me. I let Papa ji kiss me deep and dirty, tasting his desire, while Mummy ji played my body, preparing me for the dark future that awaited us at the farmhouse.

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Scene 22


The buzzing of the purple wand stopped. I lay there, gasping, my body still twitching from the forced pleasure. I thought it was over. I thought I could rest.  

But Papa ji tapped my hip with his heavy hand.  

"Now, it's time, Bahu," he grunted, his voice thick and demanding. "Turn over. On your knees."  

My eyes flew open. I knew exactly what he wanted. I shook my head violently, clutching the bedsheet.  

"No," I pleaded, scooting back. "No, Papa ji. Not there. It’s not possible. It hurts too much."  

He grabbed my ankle and pulled me back. "Everything is possible."  

"Please!" I begged, looking at Mummy ji for help. "At least wear a condom! Please! It’s dirty!"  

Papa ji laughed, a low rumble in his chest. "Condom? Nobody uses condoms in our family, Bahu. We do it village style. Skin on skin. That is how we do it."  

He positioned himself behind me. I clenched my muscles tight. It was impossible. I was too dry, too scared back there.  

"Wait," Mummy ji interrupted, seeing my panic. "She is too tight. You will tear her. Let me first make it wet."  

She reached into the black box again. She pulled out a small, glass plug. It looked cold and hard.  

"Just to make it easy?" I thought, my mind racing. "What kind of toys do they have in this house?"  

Mummy ji applied some oil from the nightstand onto the plug and then onto me. She didn't ask. She pushed the plug inside me.  

"Ahhh!" I hissed.  

"Relax," she commanded. "Let it stretch you."  

She worked the plug in and out for a minute while Papa ji stood there, watching my backside soften and open up, his eyes hungry.  

"Ready," Mummy ji declared. She pulled the plug out with a pop.  

Before I could close up, Papa ji shoved himself forward.  

"Oh god!" I screamed into the pillow as he entered me. He was thick, rough, and he didn't hold back. He filled me up in a way that felt wrong and yet devastatingly full.  

I was on all fours, swaying with his thrusts. But Mummy ji wasn't done.  

"My turn," she whispered.  

She crawled under me, lying on her back on the mattress, right beneath my heaving chest. My breasts were dangling down, heavy and leaking.  

Mummy ji reached up and latched onto my nipples.  

I was being attacked from all sides. Papa ji was pounding me from behind, stretching me to my limit. Mummy ji was sucking the life out of my breasts from below. And inside, my own body was vibrating with a confused, overwhelming heat.  

Three sensations hit me at once. The pain in my back, the suction on my chest, and the friction in my core.  

"Faster!" Papa ji roared.  

"Mmph!" Mummy ji hummed against my skin.  

I couldn't take it anymore. My brain shut down. My body took over. A wave of pressure built up in my stomach, sharper and harder than ever before.  

"I... I can't hold it!" I screamed.  

Splosh.  

I squirted. I released a fountain of fluid right there on the bed, soaking the sheets, soaking Mummy ji’s face, soaking everything. It was too much. I collapsed onto my elbows, shaking uncontrollably.  

Mummy ji wiped her face, smiling through the mess. "Look at that," she laughed. "A true fountain."  

Papa ji groaned. He pulled out of me with a wet sound. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.  

"Clean it," he ordered, breathless, shoving his hardness toward my face.  

"No," I cried, weak and broken. "I can't..."  

"Clean it!"  

I didn't have the strength to fight. I opened my mouth. As I took him in, my resistance shattered. He thrust twice and then exploded. I gagged, tears streaming down my face, as he poured himself into my mouth. Mummy ji leaned in and kissed me, sharing the taste, making it a sick, twisted family moment.  

When they finally pulled away, I snapped.  

I pushed Papa ji back. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.  

"No more training!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "I will manage! Stop this madness! I will leave this house right now if you don't stop it! I don't care about the land!"  

The room went silent. Papa ji looked annoyed, but Mummy ji looked calm. She stood up and fixed her saree.  

"You don't have to get hyper about it, Bahu," she said coolly. "We are done for today. We leave it to you now."  

She picked up the black box and tossed it onto the bed next to me.  

"But take these toys with you," she added. "When you are with Neha Bhabhi... you will need them. Or she will use something much bigger on you."  

"Get out!" I pointed at the door. "Both of you! Just get out!"  

Papa ji shrugged, zipping up his pants. They walked out of the room, looking satisfied, like they had just finished a morning workout.  

I lunged at the door. I slammed it shut. BAM.  

I turned the lock with shaking fingers. I slid down against the bed, burying my face in my knees, listening to the silence of the house and the sound of my own sobbing.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 23 - Gold Scene


I got some recovery time of two days. My body was finally feeling normal again. The soreness between my legs had faded, and the red bite marks on my chest had turned into faint bruises. I thought the worst was over. I thought they would let me breathe before the trip next week.  

It was 2:00 AM. The room was pitch black. I was sleeping deeply next to Rajat, my back turned to him.  

Creak.  

The bedroom door opened.  

I woke up instantly, my heart jumping in my chest. I squinted into the darkness. They didn't turn on any bulb or tubelight. They just stood there in the doorway, two dark silhouettes. Mummy ji and Papa ji.  

They entered silently and stood at the foot of the bed, just looking at me.  

"Mummy ji?" I whispered, pulling the blanket up to my chin. "What is it?"  

"Today is the final lesson, Disha," Mummy ji said, her voice low and calm in the dark. "Just so that you understand, we all love you so much. We do this for you."  

She then looked at Rajat. "Wake up, son."  

Rajat didn't jump. He didn't look surprised. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face. He already knew what was going on.  

"Rajat?" I looked at him, horrified. "You knew they were coming?"  

He reached out and touched my shoulder. "Trust me, Disha."  

I slapped his hand away. "Trust you? I couldn't believe what is happening! This has already happened twice at home now, and now they want me again? Have you no shame left, Rajat? Your parents are standing there!"  

"It's not about shame, Disha," Rajat said, his voice hard but desperate. "Just so that you understand... we need you to know what Rakesh Chacha likes. We need you to know how it will be over there at the farmhouse."  

He leaned closer, his eyes serious.  

"It will not just be one on one," he whispered. "There will be four people over there. Rakesh Chacha, Neha Bhabhi, and maybe others. They like group activities. What crazy things they will do... you have no idea. If you freeze up there like you are doing now, we lose the deal."  

I was really scared. My blood ran cold.  

Four people?  

I thought, "I cannot currently take what is going on here with just three... over there I will be devoured. It is not possible."  

"No," I shook my head, moving back against the headboard. "I can't. I won't."  

I kept resisting, but Rajat moved to make me soft. He came closer, crawling over me. I put his hand away, but he was stronger. He kept close, pinning me gently with his weight.  

"It's just family," he murmured.  

He reached for the buttons of my nightie.  

"Rajat, don't!"  

He didn't listen. He opened my nightie, pulling the fabric down. My breasts, heavy and warm from sleep, fell out in the open.  

Mummy ji and Papa ji stepped closer to the sides of the bed.  

Then, I saw something that broke my brain.  

Rajat leaned over. He didn't kiss me.  

He leaned towards Mummy ji, who was standing on his side of the bed. He grabbed his mother's face and kissed her. On the lips.  

It wasn't a son's kiss. It was deep. It was wrong.  

At the same time, Papa ji leaned over from my side.  

"My turn," he grunted.  

He came for a full kiss on my lips.  

I resisted, turning my head, my mind screaming at the image of my husband kissing his mother while his father kissed me. But Papa ji grabbed my chin. He forced his mouth onto mine. He tasted of tobacco and lust.  

I felt Rajat's hand on my breast, squeezing it while he kissed Mummy ji. I felt Papa ji's hand sliding up my thigh.  

The boundaries were gone. The lines were erased. I realized there was no "husband" or "wife" anymore. There are using each other for land and money.  

I stopped fighting. My strength left me. I finally closed my eyes to let it happen, letting the darkness of the room swallow me whole.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 24 - Gold Scene


I couldn't watch what was happening. The second Papa ji’s lips touched mine and I saw my husband kissing his own mother, my brain just shut down. It was too much twisted shit for one night.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Tight.

I lost track of who was doing what. The bed turned into a mess of hands and bare skin. Someone was touching my waist, someone else was pulling off my nightie, hot breath all over my neck. I just lay there frozen, letting the three of them use me like a doll, limp and obedient.

Wet sounds filled the room. Kissing. Moaning. Skin slapping skin.

Curiosity, or maybe horror, made me peek.

After a few minutes, I opened my eyes.

My breath caught in my throat.

Rajat was on top of Mummy ji. My husband was fucking his own mother right on our marriage bed. He was thrusting hard, back arched. Mummy ji’s head was thrown back, hair fanned out on the pillow, face twisted in pure pleasure.

I didn't dare look down to see where they were joined. I couldn't. Their faces were enough.

Then Mummy ji opened her eyes and saw me watching.

"Disha," she gasped, breathless. "Come here. I need you. Give me milk."

It was an order. Even while her son was inside her, she wanted me to feed her.

I felt like a zombie. I crawled across the mattress toward her face. My heavy breasts swung beneath me.

As soon as I got close, Mummy ji lifted her head and latched onto my nipple.

Slurp.

She sucked hard, drinking deep.

"Good girl," she hummed against my skin.

I was on hands and knees, feeding her, while Rajat kept pounding into her. The room was full of sounds: Mummy ji moaning, Rajat grunting, and the wet gulps of my milk going down her throat.

And then I knew what Papa ji wanted.

He was the only one left out.

His heavy hands grabbed my hips from behind. I didn't look back. I knew he was hard and ready.

No warning. He just pushed in.

"Ah!" I gasped into Mummy ji’s hair as his thick cock slid inside me.

He filled me completely.

Now we were all linked. A chain of filthy family secrets. Rajat inside Mummy ji, Mummy ji sucking me, Papa ji fucking me.

I closed my eyes again. I couldn't watch. I just felt everything. Papa ji slamming into me from behind, his belly slapping my ass. Mummy ji sucking hard on my nipple. The whole bed shaking from three bodies going at it.

It was over for me. I couldn't cum. My body was too numb, too broken. I was just a hole for them to use.

But they had no problem finishing.

"Oh god!" Rajat shouted first, shaking hard as he came inside his mother.

"Yes! Yes!" Mummy ji screamed, biting my nipple as her orgasm hit.

And finally Papa ji roared behind me, gripping my waist so tight it left bruises, pumping every hot drop deep inside me, inside my asshole.

I lay there in the middle of their mess, sandwiched between them, listening to their heavy breathing as they came down, one by one, leaving me empty, used, and broken in the dark.

[ashuezy2]

Scene 25


Finally, it was the week.  
We packed four heavy bags. Hidden deep inside one of them, wrapped in a dupatta, were the toys, the pink strap on, the black box, everything Mummy ji had forced me to take.  

I didn't ask Rajat what he had talked about with Rakesh Chacha. I didn't ask him anything. My husband had become just a person to me, a manager of this dirty business. I stopped thinking about right and wrong. I just looked at the contract and told myself, "Three more months. Just three months of this hell, and then I will have the money. That will make my life easy."  

We climbed into the Innova, me, Rajat, and the driver. Vivaan was in my lap.  

The drive was silent. We reached the farmhouse in an hour. It wasn't far from the city, but it felt like a different country.  

The gates opened, and my jaw dropped. There was a massive fountain in the center of the driveway, splashing water high into the air. A swimming pool glistened in the sun. The parking area was full of huge, expensive cars, Mercedes, Audis, Land Rovers.  

There were a lot of people walking around. Waiters were serving drinks.  

"Rajat?" I whispered. "I thought this was a private meeting?"  

Something else was going on. I expected a private audience to get the signatures, but it looked like a full family reception.  

And then I saw them.  

Tau ji was there, sitting on a large sofa in the main open living area like a king. Suresh Chacha was there with his wife, Suman Bhabhi. And I saw Rakesh Chacha and Neha Bhabhi, along with their daughters. It was the whole clan.  

Rajat and I stepped out of the car. I had Vivaan balanced on my shoulder. I fixed my heavy saree, trying to look respectable.  

But we were ignored.  

No one came to greet us. No servants came for our bags. We stood there, and then we sat on a bench in the lawn for thirty minutes. The sun was hot. I felt small and humiliated. This was becoming quite unexpected. If we were here for a deal, why were we being treated like beggars?  

I had to know what was going on. My patience snapped.  

"Rajat," I hissed, nudging him. "Why are we not going in? Why is no one talking to us?"  

Rajat looked nervous. He kept checking his phone.  

"Be patient, Disha," he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "There is some important matter that they are discussing. We can't just interrupt them in between. Tau ji is in a mood."  

I stood up. "I can't wait. Vivaan is hungry, and I am not a servant to sit outside."  

I didn't wait for Rajat. I walked straight across the lawn and went towards the living area.  

The chatter died down as I entered. All eyes turned to me, Neha Bhabhi, Suman Bhabhi, the uncles. But I only looked at one man.  

I walked up to Tau ji. He was holding a glass of whiskey.  

"Pranaam, Tau ji," I said, my voice steady.  

I bent down and touched his feet, then stood near his knees while he remained sitting on the sofa.  

He looked up at me. His eyes were red and glassy. He put out his heavy hand and placed it on my head, blessing me, but his fingers lingered in my hair.  

"Why are you here, beti?" he asked, his voice booming.  

I looked him in the eye. "Contract, Tau ji. I need signatures of Rakesh Chacha and Suresh Chacha. You promised."  

He laughed. It was a loud, cruel laugh that shook his belly. "Signatures? Just like that?"  

I looked back at Rajat. He had followed me in and was standing behind me. He didn't look surprised by Tau ji's laugh. He knew what was happening. He knew the price hadn't been fully paid yet.  

Rajat stepped close to me. He leaned in and whispered into my ear, so low only I could hear.  

"Sit with him," Rajat hissed. "Make him yours. He doesn't respond to words. He wants to feel you."  

I froze. In front of everyone? In front of the whole family?  

"Do it," Rajat urged.  

I had no choice. I handed Vivaan to Rajat.  

I sat down on the sofa, right next to Tau ji. I didn't leave a gap. I sat close.  

Tau ji smiled. He didn't hesitate. He pulled me closer with a strong jerk.  

"Ah!" I gasped as my body slammed against his.  

My chest, heavy and soft, pressed right against his arm and side. He wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting firmly on my hip, pulling me in until there was no air between us.  

I could feel the heat radiating from him. I could feel the eyes of Neha Bhabhi and the others burning into me. But Tau ji just held me like a trophy, his fingers digging into my flesh.  

Rajat stood there, holding our son, watching his wife being groped by his uncle in the middle of the living room, and he did absolutely nothing.