Adultery NISHA:: A Hot Spy -Female Investigator Officer - Secret mission

[Shabaz123]

Tony island awesome

[Shabaz123]

Waiting next update bro

[girrich9486]

One of the men brought the toys she had agreed to earlier in the night: a thick, heavy vibrator and the adjustable fucking machine with its thick, realistic attachment. He set them on the mattress within her line of sight so she could see exactly what was coming. Vidya’s breath caught, but she did not pull against the restraints. She had asked for this level of intensity. She held the position and waited.
The man coated the big vibrator, switched it on to a low, deep buzz, and first ran it along the damp crotch of her panties, pressing the vibrations through the fabric against her clit and the soft outer lips. Vidya’s arms trembled.
“Hmmmm… ahhh…”
He hooked the panties to the side, exposing her. The thick head of the vibrator pushed against her entrance and slowly sank in, stretching her open around the humming shaft. She pushed back to take it, a long broken sound leaving her throat as the vibrations filled her.
Behind her the second device was positioned. The fucking machine’s thick attachment lined up with her ass. A cool slick of lubricant, then the blunt pressure as the machine was set to a slow, steady stroke and began to work the length into her. The dual invasion — vibrator buried in her cunt, machine steadily filling her ass — locked her in place between the two rhythms.
“Haaaa… ohhh… God… yes…”
Her moans rose higher and stayed high. The restraints kept her exactly where she needed to be: open, unable to escape the intensity she had requested, body rocking forward with every thrust of the machine and back onto the thick vibrating shaft. Juices ran down the insides of her thighs. The bra straps slipped on her shoulders. Every deep stroke and every pulse of the vibrator dragged another raw, willing cry out of her.
Outside the gap in the door Nisha had seen enough to understand the scene had only grown more intense — and that Vidya was still meeting it with open, vocal surrender rather than resistance. She stayed in the shadows, forcing her own complicated physical reaction down, and kept waiting for the moment when the room would quiet and the extraction could begin without tearing her friend out of something she was clearly, for now, choosing to stay inside.....








On the bed the machine’s pace increased by a single setting. The vibrator was pushed deeper. Vidya’s voice broke into a continuous stream of moans...







Nisha could not stay in the shadows any longer.
The sounds from the room, the sight of her friend restrained and used, the casual laughter of the men — it all stacked until the last of her patience burned away. She had already taken a small knife from a utility point in the corridor during her earlier sweep. It sat flat against her palm now. She moved.
She entered from the rear angle of the room, fast and low. The first man never turned in time. She closed the distance, drove the blade in a short controlled cut across his arm and shoulder to drop his guard, then followed with a hard strike to the side of his neck. He went down hard and stayed down.
The second man spun toward the noise. He came at her with raw strength and no real technique. Nisha sidestepped the first grab, used his momentum against him, and put him on the floor with a knee and an elbow. A final precise hit kept him from rising. The whole exchange lasted only seconds.
Christopher was still near the bed, heavy with drink. He blinked at her through the haze, trying to focus on the woman who had just put two of his men down.
“Hey… bitch… who are you?”
Nisha’s voice was cold and clear.
“You motherfucker. I am your death.”
She closed on him before he could set his feet. The knife flashed toward his upper chest. He twisted at the last instant; the blade scored across the meat of his shoulder and upper chest instead of the centre, deep enough to open a bright line of blood but not enough to end him. He shouted in pain and surprise. Nisha followed with a hard kick to his midsection and another to the side of his knee. Drunk and wounded, he staggered, hit the wall, and slid down into the corner. His eyes rolled and closed. He did not get up.
The room went quiet except for heavy breathing.
Nisha turned to the bed...

[girrich9486]

“You motherfucker. I am your death.”
She closed on him before he could set his feet. The knife flashed toward his upper chest. He twisted at the last instant; the blade scored across the meat of his shoulder and upper chest instead of the centre, deep enough to open a bright line of blood but not enough to end him. He shouted in pain and surprise. Nisha followed with a hard kick to his midsection and another to the side of his knee. Drunk and wounded, he staggered, hit the wall, and slid down into the corner. His eyes rolled and closed. He did not get up.
The room went quiet except for heavy breathing.
Nisha turned to the bed.
Vidya stared at her as if she were seeing a ghost. The restraints still held her. Her body was marked by the intensity of the night, but her eyes were sharp with recognition.
“Nisha… Nisha. You came.”
“Yes. I came here to save you.”
Nisha moved fast. She cut and released every cuff and strap, freed wrists and ankles, and pulled Vidya upright. Vidya’s legs were unsteady; the hours of restraint and intensity had left her weak. Nisha got an arm around her waist and took most of her weight.
“We move now. Stay with me.”
They left the room the way Nisha had entered. The corridor outside was still empty for the moment. Nisha half-carried, half-guided Vidya toward the route she had already mapped — the service turns that avoided the main junctions and led toward the outer storage side and the jetty.
They almost made the next corner clean.
Two more men appeared at the far end of the hall, drawn by the noise from the lower room. They saw the women and started forward. Nisha did not give them time to call out. She pushed Vidya into a shallow doorway, closed the distance in a sprint, and hit the first man with a rapid combination that dropped him before he could raise his hands properly. The second swung wide. She ducked, drove her shoulder into his midsection, and put him down with the same efficient violence she had used on the others. Both stayed on the floor.
She was back at Vidya’s side in seconds.
“Can you keep going?”
Vidya nodded, jaw tight.
“Yes. Just don’t let go.”








She was back at Vidya’s side in seconds.
“Can you keep going?”
Vidya nodded, jaw tight.
“Yes. Just don’t let go.”
Nisha adjusted her grip and they moved again — two figures in the soft corridor light, one supporting the other, leaving the barred room and the unconscious men behind them. Ahead lay the rest of the maze, the outer door she had already tested, and the dark water beyond the compound. Behind them the alarm had not yet risen, but it would. Every second counted.
Nisha kept them moving, knife still in her free hand, Vidya’s weight solid against her side, and the single clear purpose that had brought her onto the island finally in motion: her friend was out of that room, and they were not stopping until the island was behind them...



Nisha turned to the bed.
Vidya stared at her as if the world had tilted. The restraints still held her in place. Her voice came out rough and disbelieving.
“Nisha… Nisha. You came.”
“Yes.” Nisha was already at the cuffs, cutting and releasing them one by one. “I came here to save you. Hold still.”
“I thought— they said you were dead.”
“I’m not. Arms free. Now the ankles. Can you feel your legs?”
Vidya flexed carefully as the last restraint came off.
“They’re weak. Everything is weak. But I can move.”
Nisha pulled her upright and got a solid arm around her waist, taking most of her weight.
“Then we move now. Stay with me. Do not stop unless I stop.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out. Same way I mapped. Service corridors to the outer storage side. Jetty after that. Talk less. Walk.”
They left the room the way Nisha had entered. The corridor outside was still empty. Nisha half-carried, half-guided Vidya along the counted turns, staying close to the wall, listening for any change in the building’s rhythm. Vidya’s breathing was harsh but steady. Her bare feet made almost no sound on the floor.
They almost cleared the next junction clean.
Two men appeared at the far end of the hall, drawn by the noise from the lower room. They saw the women and started forward at once.
“Hey! Stop right there—”
Nisha did not give them the chance to finish or to call for backup. She pushed Vidya firmly into a shallow doorway.
“Stay.”
Then she closed the distance in a sprint. The first man reached for her; she slapped the arm aside, drove a strike into his throat, and followed with a knee that folded him. The second man swung a wide, heavy punch. She ducked under it, stepped in, and hit him with a short, brutal combination — body, jaw, knee — that put him on the floor beside his partner. Neither of them got back up in time to matter.
She was at Vidya’s side again in seconds.
“Can you keep going?”
Vidya’s jaw was tight, but her eyes were clear.
“Yes. Just don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t. Come on.”
Nisha adjusted her grip and they moved again — two figures in the soft corridor light, one supporting the other, leaving the barred room and four downed men behind them. Ahead lay the rest of the maze, the outer door she had already tested with a stolen card, and the dark water beyond the compound. Behind them the alarm had not yet fully risen, but every second brought it closer.
Nisha kept them moving, knife still in her free hand, Vidya’s weight solid against her side, and the single purpose that had brought her onto the island finally in motion.
“Almost there,” she said under her breath. “Stay with me, Vidya. We’re not done until the island is behind us.”....







Corridors turned back on themselves. Doors looked identical. Soft lighting erased depth and direction. What had been a counted route in Nisha’s head began to blur once they were moving under pressure with Vidya’s weight against her side. They took a left that should have led toward the outer storage and found only another stretch of the same blank walls. They doubled back, tried a service turn, and ended up closer to a junction they had already passed.
“This place is a cage,” Vidya muttered, breath short.
“I know. Stay quiet. I still have the path. We just lost a turn.”
They kept moving. Every sound behind them felt closer than it was. The alarm had not fully risen yet, but the absence of the men Nisha had dropped would not stay unnoticed for long.
It broke sooner than she wanted.
Four men appeared at the far end of a connecting hall — two from a side door, two from the main stretch. They saw the women at once.
“Hey! Stop!”
“Stop right there!”
They came forward fast, no weapons drawn yet, relying on numbers and the narrow space. Nisha pushed Vidya behind her against the wall.
“Hold the wall. Don’t move.”
She met the first two head-on. The corridor gave her less room than before, but it also stopped them from surrounding her cleanly. She dropped the lead man with a hard strike to the throat and a follow-up that put him down. The second swung; she took the glancing hit on her shoulder, stepped in, and put him on the floor with a knee and an elbow. The third and fourth tried to rush together. She used the first as a momentary shield, then finished the sequence with the same short, brutal efficiency she had used in the lower room. In under a minute all four were down — groaning, moving weakly, or still.
From another corridor, further off but closing, more voices rose. Footsteps. The sound of people being directed toward the noise.
Nisha’s decision was instant.
“We can’t outrun the whole floor. We hide. Now.”
She got Vidya’s arm around her shoulders again and pulled them away from the junction, back along a secondary passage she had noted earlier — the one that looped toward the hospitality wing where the selected dancers were kept. The same suite Duke had shown them. The same room where Spurthi and Taboo had been left to sleep.
The door was still unlocked from the inside. Nisha opened it without sound, guided Vidya through, and closed it behind them.
The suite was as she had left it: three large beds, low light, the table with covered food and water. Spurthi and Taboo were still asleep, breathing evenly, unaware of the fight that had moved through the corridors outside. Nisha eased Vidya down onto the nearest empty bed.
“Take rest. Here.” She brought water first, then uncovered some of the food. “Eat what you can. There are clothes in the cupboard — stage spares, but better than nothing. Change when you have the strength.”
Vidya’s hands shook as she took the glass. She drank, then sat with her head lowered for a long moment. When she looked up, her eyes were wet.
She reached out and pulled Nisha into a tight, desperate hug. Her voice broke against Nisha’s shoulder.
“Thank you. Thank you, Nisha. I thought no one was coming. I thought—”
Nisha held her firmly, one hand steady on her back.
“It’s my responsibility. You went in my place. No need for thanks. Just stay quiet, recover what you can, and be ready when we move again.”
Vidya nodded against her and did not let go immediately. When she finally eased back, Nisha checked the door once more, listened to the corridor, and then began sorting the spare clothes and the remaining food into what they would need for the next stage of the escape.
Outside, the compound was beginning to wake to the fact that something had gone wrong in the lower rooms. Inside the hospitality suite, two dancers still slept, and two officers sat in the dim light — one exhausted and newly freed, the other already planning the next move through the maze that still stood between them and the water....

[girrich9486]

Tony’s Fury and the Basement:::::




Word reached Tony in pieces.
First a report that men were down in the lower corridor. Then another that the barred room was empty. He was already deep in drink, the same heavy state that had left Christopher loose and careless. The second message cut through the haze. He shoved the glass aside and went.
He moved through the compound with a drunk man’s urgency — too fast, too loud, slamming doors. When he reached the basement room the scene hit him all at once. Vidya was gone. Two of his men lay where they had fallen. In the corner his brother sat slumped against the wall, upper chest and shoulder dark with blood, eyes closed, breathing but out cold.
Tony’s face changed.
“Who is there behind this?!”
The shout tore through the lower level, raw and furious. He kicked a chair aside, checked Christopher’s pulse with rough hands, then turned in a full circle as if the empty room itself might answer him.
“Who?!”
In the hospitality suite Nisha heard the distant chaos only as a change in the building’s rhythm — more footsteps, raised voices, doors. She made the decision at once.
“You stay here,” she told Vidya. “I will come back in thirty minutes. Do not open the door for anyone except me.”
Vidya caught her wrist.
“No. Don’t go. We should leave together. You’ve already done enough.”
Nisha shook her head once.
“I want to see who Tony is. Face to face. Stay. Rest. That is an order from the one who pulled you out of that room.”
She did not wait for another argument. She slipped into the corridor and closed the door behind her.
The maze worked against the compound as much as for it once alarm had broken the usual patterns. Men moved in pairs toward the basement and the hospitality wing without clear direction. Nisha used the confusion. Anyone who crossed her path and tried to stop her went down hard and fast — a strike, a takedown, no wasted motion. She did not linger to finish anyone permanently. She only cleared the line and kept moving toward the lower level.
She reached the barred section and the open door of the room where Vidya had been held.
Tony stood alone in the middle of the space. Christopher still slumped in the corner. The other two men had not risen. Tony’s eyes were bloodshot and unfocused, but the rage in them was clear. He saw her and for a second simply stared — a woman in stage clothes, marked with a navel piercing, standing in his basement as if she belonged there.
Then he understood enough.
He dragged a pistol up from his belt, clumsy with drink, and fired.
The first shot went wide and buried itself in the wall behind her. Nisha was already moving. The second cracked past her shoulder. The third punched into the doorframe as she closed the distance. The fourth went high. The slide locked back on an empty chamber.
Tony stared at the useless gun for a fraction of a second too long.
Nisha covered the last steps and hit him three times — hard, precise, and final. The first strike took the air out of him. The second broke his balance. The third put him down on the floor beside the same wall where his brother still lay unconscious. Tony tried to rise once. His arms failed him. He collapsed fully and did not get up.
The basement room went quiet again.
Nisha stood over him long enough to confirm he was breathing and out, then turned without a word and started back toward the hospitality suite. Thirty minutes had not yet passed. Vidya was still waiting behind a closed door. The compound was waking up around the damage she had left in her path. The way out to the water was still open if they moved now.
She did not look back at the two brothers on the floor. The island had seen her face. The next minutes would decide whether that mattered more than the escape....



But Vidya hardly managed to came there and she saw there where Tony had fell she felt happy.. But Nisha not compromised... As she went near Tony and removed all his cloths.

And she turn to Vidya and tell vidua take revenge ob him. Kick his balls...

Vidya got so much dare and she beat exactly Tony balls and cock.... Hmmmmm haaaaaaaa he shouted...







Tony was still on the floor of the basement room, curled around the pain from Nisha’s earlier strike, trying to force air back into his lungs. Blood from the shoulder wound had soaked into his shirt. His vision swam. He heard footsteps and looked up.
Nisha stood over him. Beside her, Vidya — freed, unsteady, but upright — looked down at the man who had held her in this place.
Neither of them spoke at first.
Then Vidya stepped in and drove her foot hard between his legs, straight into the same place Nisha had already hit. Tony’s body jerked. A broken sound left him. Before he could roll away, Nisha followed with her own kick — precise, heavy, full of the anger she had carried since the video, since the island, since the moment she had seen what this den had done.
They did not stop at one each.
Vidya kicked again. Nisha kicked again. Tony tried to shield himself with his hands and failed. Every impact drove the air out of him and folded him tighter against the floor. The revenge was short, brutal, and exact — aimed only at the one place that would keep him down without needing another blade or bullet.
On the last blow his eyes found Nisha’s face.
She stood above him with pure, cold fury — the same officer who had made Ashok walk through a city market, the same woman the island had believed was dead. There was no pity in her expression. Only the final accounting of everything he and his brother had built here.
Tony’s strength went out of him. His hands slipped. His body collapsed fully onto the concrete, vision darkening at the edges, the pain in his groin and the blood loss from his shoulder pulling him under. He did not get up again...










“Can you walk?”
“Yes.” His voice was rough. “Just get us out.”
“Stay behind me. Do exactly what I say.”
They moved through the maze together. The compound’s design worked against its own people once the usual patterns had broken. Corridors that were meant to trap intruders now scattered the remaining men in the wrong directions. Nisha used every blind corner and every stretch of soft lighting she had memorised on the way in.
They reached the hospitality suite without another full fight. Nisha opened the door. Vidya was on her feet at once. Spurthi and Taboo were awake, startled by the sudden return and by the second freed captive.
Nisha’s orders were short and absolute.
“We’re leaving. All five of us. Now. Take nothing that slows you down. Stay behind me. If I stop, you stop. If I move, you move. No one separates.”
Vidya did not argue. Pratap steadied himself on the doorframe and nodded. The two dancers, shaken but not foolish, fell in at the rear. Nisha took the lead. Vidya stayed close at her shoulder. Pratap followed. Taboo and Spurthi closed the group.
The first resistance came at a junction halfway toward the outer wing. Two guards stepped into the corridor and reached for radios as much as for weapons. Nisha closed the distance before either call went out. The first man went down from a strike to the throat and a follow-up that put him on the floor. The second managed a wide swing; she took it on her forearm, stepped inside, and dropped him with a knee and an elbow. She did not finish them permanently. She only cleared the path and kept the group moving.
A second pair appeared near the storage access. These two were more careful and tried to block the width of the hall. Nisha pushed Vidya and the others into a shallow recess, then went in alone. The fight was longer by a few seconds and louder, but the result was the same. Both men ended on the ground. She waved the group forward before either could recover enough to shout a clear alarm.
Behind them, in the basement, Tony finally forced air back into his lungs and dragged himself onto his hands and knees. He still did not know how many were gone or which route they had taken. He only knew the woman had walked through his compound, emptied the held rooms, and left him crippled on the floor. By the time he could stand and start shouting broken orders, the five figures were already at the outer edge of the property......

[girrich9486]

At the Nisha house ::::::




Rajesh was at the office. Only Raghu and Priya were at home.
A car stopped outside. The minister’s personal assistant came to the door with two other men. Raghu recognised both of them at once. They had worked with him in the security office. That made him open the door without much suspicion.
“We need to talk about Nisha and the safety of this house,” the PA said. His tone was calm and serious. “It is better you hear it from people you know.”
They sat in the main room. Priya stayed near the table. The child was in the other room.
The PA did not show any video at first. He started slowly.
“You both trust her. That is natural. She is family. She is an officer. But trust and facts are not always the same thing.”
One of the security men who had worked with Raghu spoke next. His voice was familiar, which made the words land harder.
“Raghu, I am telling you this because we stood on the same side for a long time. Nisha talks like she protects everyone. In real decisions she chooses where to put men and where not to put them. This house was not treated as a priority. We saw the gap. We raised it. It was not closed properly.”
The second colleague added,
“When an officer refuses full cover for her own people, the risk does not disappear. It only moves onto the family. That is what happened here.”
Raghu frowned.
“She would not leave us open on purpose. She has always stood for us.”
The PA nodded as if he understood the doubt.
“That is what a good image is for. In public she looks perfect. In private choices, some lives are treated as less important. The protection around this house and around the people in it was thin. She knew there was pressure. She still did not lock it down.”
Priya’s face had gone tight.
“You are saying she knew and still did nothing proper for us.”
“Yes,” the first colleague said quietly. “That is exactly what we are saying. And the result is already in front of you.”
Only after the talk had settled did the PA take out his phone.
“If you still find it hard to believe, listen to her own words.”
He played the short recording. On the screen a woman who looked and sounded like Nisha spoke clearly:
“We should not waste security on Raghu. His chapter is already closed. Why keep men at that house? Put them where they are actually needed.”
The clip ended. The room stayed silent for a long moment.
Raghu stared at the dark screen. The voice had sounded like hers. The two men he had worked with were sitting in his own house and backing the same story. The ground under his trust began to shift.
The PA spoke again, still without shouting.
“If proper protection had been given to this house and to the people in it, what happened to your wife would not have happened. Do you understand? That is the cost of the gap she left. Or you can keep believing the image. That is your wish.”
He stood. The two colleagues stood with him. They did not wait for a long argument. They left the doubt and the recording behind them and walked out to the car.
After the door closed, the house felt different.
Raghu sat with his head down, the words and the video turning over in his mind. Priya’s eyes were wet and hard at the same time. The story they had been given was simple and cruel: Nisha had chosen not to protect them, the recording “proved” it, and the violence that had touched Priya was being laid at Nisha’s feet.
“She cheated us,” Raghu said at last, voice rough. “We trusted her. Because of her only… this happened to you.”
Priya did not correct him. In that moment the PA’s version had taken hold. Frustration and anger at Nisha filled the room where trust had been. The trap had been set without a single raised voice — only familiar faces, a slow negative story, a final video, and one last line that tied Priya’s suffering to Nisha’s choices.
While Nisha was still far from home, the people closest to her had already been turned against her....

[girrich9486]

Ps give feed back

[girrich9486]

:::::After the Door Closed::::



The house stayed quiet for a long time after the car left.
Priya sat on the edge of the chair with her face in her hands. The tears came without sound at first, then harder. When she finally spoke, her voice was thick and broken.
“She deceived us. We believed she was protecting us. We believed she was a good officer. And all of it was empty. A useless officer who left us open and then acted like a hero outside.”
Raghu had been standing near the table, staring at nothing. He came and sat beside her. For a moment neither of them looked at the other. The recording, the familiar faces of the men from the security office, and the last line about protection and what had happened to Priya were still sitting in the room like a weight.
“It’s all because of that bitch,” Raghu said at last. The anger in his voice was flat and heavy. “She chose her work. She chose her image. She closed the chapter on this house and on us. I will make her feel it. I will take revenge.”
Priya lifted her head at once.
“No. Please. Leave it. We can go from here. We can take the child and leave this place. If we stay in this fight we will only break more.”
Raghu shook his head hard.
“How can we leave like that? How can we walk away without making her know this pain? How you were gangbanged. How I met with that accident. The whole cost fell on us because she did not give protection. And now we should simply leave and stay quiet? No. She has to know what she did to this house.”
Priya’s tears came again, but she did not argue in a long speech. She only repeated, softer,
“If we go after her we may lose whatever we still have. Please, Raghu.”
He did not soften. The trust he had carried for Nisha had turned into something sharp and simple: she had failed them, the recording and the men from his own office had confirmed it, and the suffering in this house needed an answer. He stood up and walked a few steps across the room, hands closed, breathing hard.
“She will not walk away clean from this. Not after what happened to you. Not after what happened to me.”
Priya stayed on the chair, crying quietly, torn between fear of more damage and the same hurt that had taken hold of him.
Raghu’s eyes moved across the table where the PA had sat. Among the empty space left behind, one small thing remained — a visiting card, placed neatly and left on purpose. The name and number of the minister’s personal assistant sat face up under the light.
He stared at it for a long moment. The anger did not cool. It only found a direction.
Priya saw where he was looking and her face changed again, but she did not spea

[girrich9486]

:::::The Call:::::





Raghu picked up the visiting card.
For a moment he only held it between his fingers, the name and number clear under the light. Priya watched him from the chair but did not stop him. He unlocked his phone, typed the number, and pressed call.
The line rang twice. A voice answered — not the PA’s exact tone from the visit, but close enough, steady and controlled.
“Yes.”
Raghu’s words came out rough and broken.
“Sir… I will kill her. She deceived us. My wife is innocent. What happened to her… because of that woman. I cannot—”
His voice failed. The anger was still there, but the sound cracked into something closer to crying. He could not finish the sentence cleanly. On the other end there was a short silence, then the same calm tone, slower now.
“No. No. Do not hurry. Do not do anything in this state.”
Raghu pressed the phone harder to his ear, breathing uneven.
“She has to pay. After what she did to this house—”
“Listen to me,” the voice said. “You take rest until you recover. Stay there. Wait for the right time. When the moment is proper I will tell you what to do. Then both of you can follow the plan I give you.”
Raghu shut his eyes. Priya had stood up without making a sound, one hand on the back of the chair.
The voice continued, still even.
“She cannot simply die. That is too quick. She has to take the same kind of pain you both took. That is the point. Not a sudden end. The pain. Do you understand?”
Raghu’s breathing slowed a little. The raw edge of the moment was still in his throat, but the instruction had given the anger a shape that was not immediate and chaotic.
“Yes, sir,” he said. The cry had gone out of his voice. What remained was harder. “We will wait. We will not doubt her. We will wait for your word.”
“Good,” the other voice replied. “Stay quiet. Do not talk about this call to anyone outside that house. When the time comes, you will know.”
The line went dead.
Raghu lowered the phone. The visiting card was still in his other hand. Priya looked at him, eyes wet, the fear and the shared hurt both visible on her face. Neither of them spoke for a while. The house around them felt smaller than before.
He had not been told to act tonight. He had been told to wait, to recover, and to hold the anger until someone else shaped it into a plan. The idea that Nisha should not die quickly, but should feel what they felt, settled into the room like a cold decision.
Outside, the street remained ordinary. Inside, the call had closed one door — the door of sudden, open violence — and opened another: a longer, guided revenge that would wait for instructions. Raghu put the card in his pocket. Priya sat down again. The silence between them was no longer only grief. It was agreement to wait.

[girrich9486]

Please give your valuable feed back

[Shabaz123]

Oh my God...Bro, what an amazing update you've given... Nisha has really wreaked havoc on Tony and Christopher... But the plan to trap Nisha using Priya and Raghu is mind-blowing... Now, when she falls into the clutches of Tony and Christopher, she is going to be in a truly terrible state...

[RedDranzar]

The escape was bit too easy

[Shabaz123]

Nisha full Hardcor gangbang coming soon

[Arya321]

Super plot... Thanks for big update... And waiting for real fuck

[chrisgale159]

nice update bro

[girrich9486]

nice update bro

Thankyou

[girrich9486]

Thankyou alll


::::::::Escaped completed::::::

 The craft moved steadily through the dark channels. Behind them the compound lights grew smaller. Ahead, the mainland was still only a direction, not a place they could see. Five people sat low in the hull. For the first time since the barred room, no one was running.
Vidya turned to Nisha. The weakness was still in her body, but her eyes were clear. She pulled Nisha into a tight hug and held on.
“Thank you. Again. I keep saying it because I mean it.”
Nisha held her back, firm and steady.
“No need. I should have come before. Look what they did to you. I am sorry. Really. The mission was mine first. I stopped. You went. That is on me.”
Vidya shook her head against her shoulder.
“You came. That is what matters now.”
Pratap sat near the rear, watching the water behind them. Taboo and Spurthi remained quiet, still absorbing the fact that the private night they had been chosen for had turned into an escape with two officers. Nisha kept one hand on the tiller and one eye on the channel markers. She had done heavy damage to Tony’s den — men down, rooms emptied, both brothers left on the basement floor — but she had no full picture yet of what that damage would cost once the network answered. The political cover in the city, the pressure on her husband’s work, the people who already wanted her broken: none of that had been settled by the escape. She only knew her friend was free and the island was falling behind them.
On the island the remaining guards finally reached the lower levels.
They found men on the corridor floors, some still breathing, some not moving. The barred door stood open. The hospitality suite was empty. In the basement room the scene was worse. Tony lay where he had collapsed after the kicks, blood on his shirt from the earlier wound, body curled from the pain. Christopher was in the corner, still out, the cut on his shoulder dark and stiff. Both were alive. Both had been deep in drink when the fight hit them, and the repeated blows had finished what the alcohol had started. They were down, not finished forever.
One of the men recognised the faces and shouted for help. Others came. Radios went up. The compound that had been confused and half-asleep snapped into emergency mode.
Doctors were brought in under urgency. They worked on Tony first, then Christopher, then the goons who still had a chance. Fluids, pressure on wounds, checks for internal injury from the groin strikes and the falls. Tony’s breathing stayed shallow but present. He did not speak. For two full days his voice did not return in any useful way. He drifted in and out, and every time his mind cleared even a little, the same images returned.
The woman in the stage clothes.
The way she had put his men down.
The moment she and the freed agent had stood over him and finished the job with their feet.
The empty rooms after.
He had not forgotten her face. Even through the pain and the drink and the medical haze, that face stayed fixed. The slut who was supposed to be dead. The officer who had walked into his den, taken his prisoners, and left him on the concrete. Anger sat in him like a second injury — silent, constant, waiting for the day he could use his voice and his network again.
Christopher survived as well. Some of the other men did too. The den was damaged, not erased. The political line in the city was still intact. And somewhere on the water, the woman Tony could not stop seeing was moving toward the mainland with the people she had pulled out of his rooms, still unaware of how wide the counter-strike would eventually reach — into her work, her marriage, and the house where the visiting card had already done its first quiet work.
The island began to stitch itself back together around the wounded.
The boat kept moving toward shore.
The next cost had not yet been named, but it had already started to form.



Home After Four Days
The door opened on the fourth day.
Raghu stood there. For a second his face did not move. Then he put on a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“Hey, Raghu. How are you?” Nisha asked, tired but bright.
“Yes, madam. Fine. What about you, madam?”
“I am so happy, Raghu. My mission was a grand success. I finished Tony. I saved Vidya. Everything is happy. All happy.”
Raghu nodded and wished her well in the same polite, empty way. The words were correct. The feeling behind them was not. Inside, the call, the visiting card, and the story he had been fed were still burning. He stepped aside and let her in.
Nisha went straight to Priya and pulled her into a hug.
“Hey, Priya. How are you? And the kid?”
Priya held her back. Her smile was quieter than Raghu’s, and more real. The hurt was still there, but in that moment she did not put on a full mask. Nisha went to freshen up, came back in clean clothes, hugged Priya again, and lifted the child into her arms. She laughed as the small weight settled against her. For a short while the house sounded ordinary — an officer home from a hard job, family in the room, a child in her hands.
“Congratulations, sister,” Priya said. “You did it. You won.”
Nisha’s face was open with relief and pride. Then Priya’s voice changed.
“But… do you know who bangd me?”
The colour left Nisha’s face. The child was still in her arms. She looked at Priya for a long second, the triumph of the island colliding with the reality of what had happened in this house while she was gone.
“I will sort this out also,” she said. Her voice was steady, full of the same stubborn care she brought to every case. “Within a week. I promise.”
There was real affection in her eyes, and real anger under it — not at Priya, but at whoever had done it. She did not know yet that the same people who had poisoned Raghu’s mind were already shaping the next move against her. She only knew her sister-in-law had been hurt and that she would not leave it unanswered.
Raghu watched from the side of the room. His face stayed polite. His mind was boiling. Every soft word Nisha spoke, every hug, every promise, scbangd against the version of her he now carried — the officer who had “closed the chapter” on them, the woman the recording and the familiar men from his office had painted as the reason for their pain. He said nothing. He only waited.
Nisha had not told Rajesh she was coming. She wanted the door, the shock, the first look. She stayed in the house through the evening, talking lightly, holding the child, checking that Priya ate something. The clock moved toward nine.
At nine the doorbell rang.
Nisha went to the door and opened it.
Rajesh stood on the step with his bag still on his shoulder. For a moment he simply stared, as if the person in front of him might disappear if he blinked. Then the shock broke into pure happiness. He dropped the bag, pulled her into his arms, and lifted her clean off the floor, turning once in the narrow entrance with her against his chest.
“You’re home,” he said into her hair, voice rough with relief. “You’re actually home.”
Nisha laughed against him, arms around his neck, the weight of the island and the basement and the escape falling away for a few clear seconds in the doorway of her own house.
Behind them, in the main room, Raghu’s polite face did not change. Priya looked at the floor. The child had been set down. The reunion at the door was real. The poison that had been planted in the same house was still real too — quiet, patient, and waiting for the plan the voice on the phone had promised.
Nisha did not see it yet. She only felt her husband’s arms and the simple fact that she had made it back....

[girrich9486]

The Bedroom
Rajesh did not put her down in the hallway.
He lifted Nisha fully into his arms and carried her straight toward their bedroom, past the main room where Raghu and Priya still sat with their private silence. Nisha laughed against his shoulder and tapped his chest once.
“Down. Put me down.”
He only tightened his hold and kept walking.
“No.”
Inside the bedroom he set her on the edge of the bed at last, but he did not step back. He stayed close, hands still at her waist, looking at her as if he needed to make sure she was solid and real after the days she had been gone without a clear word.
“I love you, Nisha.”
She met his eyes. The island, the basement, the escape, the promise she had just made to Priya — all of it was still in her body. But in that moment the only clear thing was the man in front of her.
“I love you too, Rajesh.”
He drew her in. They fell into a slow cuddle on the bed, her face against his neck, his arms locked around her back. For a while neither of them spoke. The house beyond the closed door might as well have been far away.
After a few minutes Nisha eased back enough to see his face.
“Go and freshen up,” she said softly. “You came straight from the office. Go.”
He hesitated, then nodded and went into the attached bathroom. The sound of water started. Nisha stayed on the bed for a second longer, then stood and moved through the room with quiet purpose.
She switched off the main lights. From the drawer she took the candles they kept for rare evenings and placed them around the room — on the side tables, on the low shelf, one near the window. She lit each one carefully. The ordinary bedroom changed under the warm, uneven glow. Shadows softened. The hard edges of the day fell away. By the time the bathroom door opened again, the only light left was the candles.
Rajesh stopped in the doorway.
He had expected the usual room. Instead he found his wife standing in the middle of a space lit only by small flames, the same woman who had just come back from a mission that had nearly taken her, waiting for him in the quiet she had made. For a moment he simply looked, taking in the arrangement, the soft light on her face, the fact that she had done this in the short time he was behind the door.
“Nisha…”
She did not answer at once. She only held out a hand. He crossed the room, still half in the spell of the candles, and took it. The reunion that had started at the front door settled into something slower and closer in the dim, warm dark of their own room — while in the rest of the house the other story, the one built on a visiting card and a false recording, continued to wait for its next instruction....








Candlelight
Nisha had changed while the candles were still burning.
The night gown was thin and almost transparent, soft against her skin, cut to sit close to her body. In the warm light she looked different from the officer who had walked out of the island den — open, deliberate, waiting for him. Rajesh stopped again when he saw her, the same way he had stopped at the doorway earlier.
She held out her hand. He took it and they went to the bed.
The first kisses were slow. He said he loved her against her mouth. She answered the same way, the words breaking into soft sounds as his lips stayed on hers.
“Mmm… hhh…”
His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, then lower along her throat. She tilted her head without thinking. When his lips traced the line of her cleavage through the thin fabric, a longer sound left her.
“Shhhhh… haaaaa…”
He smiled against her skin.
“Look at you. So tough outside. Officer who finishes missions. And here you’re this sensitive.”
“Rajesh, don’t tease—”
He only kissed her neck again, slower, and began to ease the night gown off her shoulders. She let him. The fabric slipped down. In the candlelight her body was bare to his eyes — the full shape of her, the soft stomach, the new silver catch in the centre of her navel catching a small point of flame.
He went still for a second, taking her in. Then his hands moved over her with open appreciation, and his mouth followed, trailing down until he kissed the warm skin of her tummy. His lips brushed close to the piercing. He stopped fully this time and looked up.
“Wow, Nisha. This is… too hot. When did you get this pierced?”
Her throat closed.
“It’s… it’s…”
She tried again and failed. The island, Tina, the condition for staying in the private rooms, the mark she had accepted to reach Vidya — none of it was a story she could drop easily into this soft, candlelit bed. The words stuck.
Rajesh’s expression changed. The heat was still there, but something else had entered it — attention, the beginning of concern.
“What happened? Tell me.”...















Rajesh’s expression changed. The heat was still there, but something else had entered it — attention, the beginning of concern.
“What happened? Tell me.”
She looked at the ceiling, then at him, still unable to form a clean sentence.
“I will tell you. Just… don’t feel—”
She could not finish that either. The fear of how he would take it sat plain on her face. He had already sensed that the piercing was not a simple, private choice made in the city. Something about the way she froze, the way her voice broke, told him the story behind the silver ring was heavier than a decoration.
He did not push with anger. He stayed close, one hand still on her waist, and waited for her to find the words — while the candles kept burning and the rest of the house, with its quieter, uglier secrets, remained on the other side of the closed door...



Nisha’s face stayed lowered. The candles threw soft light across the bed. Rajesh waited, one hand still near her waist, the silver catch in her navel bright against her skin.
“It’s… it’s… it’s on the island,” she said at last. “They did it on me there.”
His head came up.
“What? Nisha — what did they do?”
She forced the next words out.
“They… made me get pierced. Yes. They pierced me.”
For a second Rajesh only stared. Shock first — the idea of his wife marked in a criminal den, under pressure, as part of a mission she had barely survived. Then something else moved under the shock, harder to name. Ever since the video of Vidya had landed on her phone and he had watched those few minutes, a restless heat had lived in the back of his mind. He had tried to push it away. Now the same heat stirred again, mixed with the knowledge that Nisha herself had been inside that world long enough for them to put a permanent mark on her body. His body reacted before he could tidy the feeling. A clear, unwanted thrill ran through him; he felt himself harden under the thin clothes he still wore.
He kept his voice careful.
“Did they do anything else to you? Like… like what we saw with Vidya?”
Nisha shook her head quickly.
“No. Not like that.” She paused, colour rising in her cheeks. “But… but…”
The rest stuck. Shyness closed her throat. She could not yet say Tina’s name, or the teasing, or how close she had been brought under another woman’s hands before the needle went in. She only sat there, bare in the candlelight, the new piercing between them like a fact that refused to stay simple.
Rajesh’s pulse was loud in his own ears. The concern was real. The arousal was also real, and it embarrassed him even as it grew. He shifted closer, settled both hands on her waist, and bent to kiss the skin around the silver ring — slow, deliberate, right where the island had left its mark.
“Tell me,” he said against her stomach, voice low. “Slowly. What exactly happened there.”
Nisha’s fingers curled in the sheet. She was still confused by his tone — the worry and the heat tangled together — but she had already started the truth. Hiding the rest would only make the next days harder.
“Hmm… okay,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you.”
She drew a breath, eyes still not fully meeting his, and began to search for the words that would explain the selection, the condition, and the choice she had made to stay inside long enough to reach Vidya — while her husband’s mouth stayed close to the piercing and his body, against his own better judgment, stayed tightly, openly aroused by every fragment she was about to give him......








Nisha’s face stayed lowered. The candles threw soft light across the bed. Rajesh waited, one hand still near her waist, the silver catch in her navel bright against her skin.
“It’s… it’s… it’s on the island,” she said at last. “They did it on me there.”
His head came up.
“What? Nisha — what did they do?”
She forced the next words out.
“They… made me get pierced. Yes. They pierced me.”
For a second Rajesh only stared. Shock first — the idea of his wife marked in a criminal den, under pressure, as part of a mission she had barely survived. Then something else moved under the shock, harder to name. Ever since the video of Vidya had landed on her phone and he had watched those few minutes, a restless heat had lived in the back of his mind. He had tried to push it away. Now the same heat stirred again, mixed with the knowledge that Nisha herself had been inside that world long enough for them to put a permanent mark on her body. His body reacted before he could tidy the feeling. A clear, unwanted thrill ran through him; he felt himself harden under the thin clothes he still wore.
He kept his voice careful.
“Did they do anything else to you? Like… like what we saw with Vidya?”
Nisha shook her head quickly.
“No. Not like that.” She paused, colour rising in her cheeks. “But… but…”
The rest stuck. Shyness closed her throat. She could not yet say Tina’s name, or the teasing, or how close she had been brought under another woman’s hands before the needle went in. She only sat there, bare in the candlelight, the new piercing between them like a fact that refused to stay simple.
Rajesh’s pulse was loud in his own ears. The concern was real. The arousal was also real, and it embarrassed him even as it grew. He shifted closer, settled both hands on her waist, and bent to kiss the skin around the silver ring — slow, deliberate, right where the island had left its mark.
“Tell me,” he said against her stomach, voice low. “Slowly. What exactly happened there.”
Nisha’s fingers curled in the sheet. She was still confused by his tone — the worry and the heat tangled together — but she had already started the truth. Hiding the rest would only make the next days harder.
“Hmm… okay,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you.”
She drew a breath, eyes still not fully meeting his, and began to search for the words that would explain the selection, the condition, and the choice she had made to stay inside long enough to reach Vidya — while her husband’s mouth stayed close to the piercing and his body, against his own better judgment, stayed tightly, openly aroused by every fragment she was about to give him....

[girrich9486]

Nisha’s face burned. The candles made the room feel smaller. Rajesh’s mouth was still close to her stomach, then higher, brushing the soft skin of her cleavage while he waited.
She tried to start and failed.
How was she supposed to tell her husband that she had stood on a stage in a sleeveless, high-cut costume — midriff bare, deep navel open to the lights, arms raised so that even her underarms were on display? That men from Tony’s circle had put hands on her hips, that during the dance a mouth had found her stomach and the hollow of her arm? That later, to stay inside the den long enough to reach Vidya, she had agreed to soft cuffs on a reclining chair and that a woman named Tina had touched her, teased her, and put the needle through her navel while she lay there marked and shaking?
The words stuck in her throat. Every time she opened her mouth, shame closed it again.
Rajesh kissed the piercing once more, then the line of her cleavage, and asked again, gently.
“Nisha. What happened there?”
She only shook her head, eyes wet with embarrassment rather than tears of pain.
He noticed. He stopped the trail of kisses, brought both hands up, and held her face so she had to look at him.
“Look at me.”
She did. His eyes were steady — worried, heated, but steady.
“No problem. Please tell me what happened. How you got trapped. How it went. I am here. Just say it.”
She drew a breath. Before she could form the first full sentence he leaned in and kissed her soft lips. The kiss was slow and sure. A small sound escaped her into his mouth.
“Hmmmm… haaa…”
For a few seconds there was only the quiet of the room and the sound of them kissing. When he eased back, her face was still hot, but the worst of the lock on her voice had loosened. She nodded once, barely, and began to search for the simplest, truest version she could give him — the dancer cover, the selection, the condition of the piercing, the choice she had made so she could stay close enough to pull Vidya out.
In the other part of the house, Raghu was not asleep.
Earlier, following the instructions that had come with the visiting card and the quiet plan, he had placed a small hidden camera among the decorative flowers in Nisha and Rajesh’s bedroom. Neither of them knew it was there. The feed ran to his phone.
On the screen, in the dark of his own room, the live image of the candlelit bed was clear enough. He watched without expression at first, then with the cold focus of a man who had already decided that the woman on that bed was the reason for his wife’s suffering and his own accident. The reunion, the soft light, the private talk he could not fully hear — all of it fed the anger that the PA’s story had lit and the voice on the phone had told him to hold until the right time.
A threat was already inside Nisha’s home, sitting in plain sight on a shelf of flowers, while she tried to explain the island to the one person she trusted most and still did not know that the next blow against her would not come from Tony’s den, but from under her own roof.
















She shyly open mouth to tell him

Nisha’s voice stayed small. She kept her eyes on the sheet more than on Rajesh’s face.
“Yes… I went there with the bar dancers. They told me I had to wear a… sexy dress.”
Rajesh’s thumb brushed her waist.
“Sexy dress means what?”
“Nisha, please, I can’t say—”
He kissed her lips once, soft, and waited. She swallowed and forced the rest out.
“It only covered my… breasts. And it showed deep… deep cleavage. And a short skirt. It only came to the knee. We were ten. We danced on the stage.”
In the other room, Raghu’s phone screen showed the candlelit bed clearly enough. He could not catch every word, but he caught enough — dancer, stage, dress, cleavage. For months he had only seen her as the strict officer who came and went with cases and orders. Now he was hearing the same woman describe herself under stage lights in almost nothing. His body reacted hard. A thought he did not bother to dress up settled in him: he wanted to fuck her. He wanted her expressions, her hot body, the side of her he had never been allowed to see. He kept the phone steady and said nothing out loud.
On the bed Nisha continued, still shy.
“They touched the dancers on stage. However they wanted. When we did the belly dance I had to raise my arms fully. They looked at… my underarms. The smooth part. And they… kissed there.”
Rajesh went still.
“What? They kissed and licked your armpits?”
She lowered her head.
“Yes. And one drunken goon came close and licked my deep navel also.”
Rajesh’s breath changed. She felt it. Her eyes dropped, almost by accident, to his crotch and saw the clear strain there. A weird, complicated feeling moved through her — surprise, embarrassment, and a heat she had not expected in this conversation. She opened her mouth to ask what was happening to him.
He put a finger gently on her lips.
“Shhh.”
Then, quieter:
“Show me. How you raised your arms. Like on the island.”
Nisha’s face burned.
“Please, Rajesh. Please don’t ask that.”
“No. Please. Raise them. Show me. As you did there.”














“Show me. How you raised your arms. Like on the island.”
Nisha’s face burned.
“Please, Rajesh. Please don’t ask that.”
“No. Please. Raise them. Show me. As you did there.”
She held still for a long second. Then, slowly, she lifted both arms above her head, the same open pose she had held under the stage lights, underarms bare, body offered by the position even though they were alone in their own room.
Rajesh looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. Hunger and something darker mixed in his eyes. He took one of her raised arms, brought the soft hollow of her underarm to his face, and breathed in the warm scent of her skin. Then he kissed it. Then he licked, slow and deliberate, the way she had said the men on the island had done.
A broken sound left Nisha’s throat. Whatever control she carried as an IPS officer loosened under the exact, intimate attention. Heat rushed through her. Her arms stayed up because he had asked and because her body was no longer fully listening to shame. He kept kissing and licking the sensitive skin while she trembled, highly aroused despite every reason she had to stay closed and careful.
In the other room Raghu watched the live image of her arms raised and her husband’s mouth on her skin, and the plan the voice on the phone had told him to wait for settled a little deeper in his mind — colder, more personal, and aimed at the woman who still did not know that her own house had already been turned into a stage for someone else’s revenge....








Nisha’s arms stayed high. The candlelight caught the soft undersides of her arms and the silver ring in her navel. Rajesh did not rush. He held one wrist lightly so the pose would not collapse, and turned his attention fully to the hollow she had been so ashamed to name.
He breathed her in again — warm skin, faint salt from the long day, the clean scent of her after the shower. Then his mouth returned. He kissed the smooth centre of her underarm, then the edges, then opened his lips and licked a slow stripe from the deeper hollow outward. Nisha’s whole body jerked.
“Ahhh… Rajesh…”
“This is what they did?” he asked against her skin, voice rough. “Like this?”
She could only nod. He switched to the other arm, still keeping both of hers raised, and repeated the same careful attention — kiss, breath, lick — until her breathing turned open and uneven. Soft sounds kept leaving her throat. The tough officer who had dropped Tony on a basement floor was shaking in her own bed because her husband was mapping the exact places strangers had touched on an island stage.
His free hand slid down her side, over the curve of her breast, across the soft plane of her stomach, and settled beside the piercing. He kissed her navel next, circling the silver catch with his tongue the way she had described the drunken goon’s mouth. Nisha’s hips shifted on the sheet. Her arms trembled with the effort of holding them up.
“Don’t lower them,” he murmured. “Keep them like the dance.”
She obeyed. The position left her completely open to him — underarms, breasts, midriff, the marked navel. He moved between those points without hurry: a long lick into one underarm, a suck at the side of her breast, a wet kiss on the piercing, then back again. Each return made her sounds higher and less controlled.
“Hmmm… haaa… please…”







“Don’t lower them,” he murmured. “Keep them like the dance.”
She obeyed. The position left her completely open to him — underarms, breasts, midriff, the marked navel. He moved between those points without hurry: a long lick into one underarm, a suck at the side of her breast, a wet kiss on the piercing, then back again. Each return made her sounds higher and less controlled.
“Hmmm… haaa… please…”
Whether she was asking him to stop or to continue was no longer clear even to her. Heat had pooled low in her belly. Her thighs pressed together. The embarrassment was still there, burning in her face, but it had fused with arousal until she could not separate them. He noticed. His mouth curved against her skin.
“My IPS wife,” he said quietly. “Raising her arms for me. Wet because I’m kissing the places they kissed.”
“Don’t— don’t say it like that—”
He licked deeper into her underarm in answer. Her words broke into a moan. He finally eased her arms down only so he could push her gently onto her back, then lifted them again above her head on the pillow and held both wrists there with one hand while the other and his mouth kept working her body. She did not fight the hold. She arched into it.
He spent a long time on her stomach and the piercing, then returned to her underarms until she was writhing, soft continuous sounds filling the candlelit room. When he finally kissed her mouth again she kissed back hard, all the shyness temporarily burned off by need.
“Tell me the rest later,” he said against her lips. “Right now I want you like this.”
She nodded, eyes dark, arms still where he had put them, body marked by the island and openly, helplessly responsive to her husband’s mouth on every place the den had claimed first.
In the other room the phone screen stayed bright. Raghu watched the raised arms, the way she trembled, the intimacy she had never shown under this roof in front of anyone else. His own body was tight with anger and want mixed together. He did not look away. The hidden camera among the flowers kept running, and the woman who had survived Tony’s island still had no idea that the next danger was already inside the house, watching her come apart in her husband’s hands....

[girrich9486]

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