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

[girrich9486]

color=#3333ff]Thankyou all[/color]



After 2 days they reached to island.. Nisha face fully covered by black cloth. And Vidya same but both are different vehicles.


Nisha’s world was pure darkness and rope.
A thick black cloth covered her eyes completely. Her hands were pulled hard behind her back and tied so tightly that her shoulders burned. She twisted her body on the hard surface beneath her, trying to free her wrists, but the knots only dug deeper into her skin.
“Who are you?!” she shouted, voice raw with rage. “Where am I, you bastards?! Untie me right now!”
Somewhere nearby she could hear another woman’s muffled struggling and angry curses. Vidya. The sound made Nisha’s chest tighten even more.
Suddenly rough hands grabbed the cloth over her face and yanked it away.
Bright light stabbed her eyes. Nisha blinked hard, vision slowly clearing.
Tony sat in a large chair only a few feet in front of her, legs crossed, watching her with a cold, satisfied smile.
Nisha’s body went rigid.
She was sitting on a thin mattress in the middle of a wide living room. Her outer clothes were gone. Only her bra and panty remained. The rest had been stripped away while she was unconscious in the car. Cool air touched her bare stomach and thighs.
Around the room stood Christopher, Duke, and several hard-faced gang members. All of them were staring at her with the same quiet, wicked amusement.
Nisha’s face twisted with pure fury.
“You bastard!” she spat. “You didn’t die. How dare you bring me here like this?!”
Tony’s smile widened. He leaned forward slightly, eyes moving slowly over her almost-naked body.
“How beautiful,” he said softly. “Look at you. So hot in just these little things. You were celebrating your victory back home, weren’t you? Ha… ha…”
“You pig!” Nisha shouted, straining against the ropes. “Once these cuffs come off I will show you who I am. You already forgot what happened to you and your brother last time?”
Christopher stepped forward with anger flashing in his eyes, fist raised. Tony lifted one hand.
“Stop. Let her talk. I want to hear every word.”
Tony rose from the chair and walked slowly toward her. He stopped right in front of the mattress. His fingers reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Then his fingertips traced the soft line of her cheek and stopped at her mouth. He pressed his thumb lightly against her lower lip, pulling it just a little.
“So lovely… so soft,” he murmured. “And today you are sitting at my feet. Exactly where you belong.”
Nisha’s eyes burned. She jerked her head away.
“You talk big only because my hands are tied, you coward. The moment I am free I will make you bow at my feet.”
Tony’s fingers slid downward, brushing the warm skin of her neck, then the upper curve of her cleavage.
Nisha twisted hard and spat straight into his face.
The spit landed on his cheek.
Tony’s expression changed in an instant. His hand cracked across her face in a sharp slap. Her head snapped to the side.
“How dare you, bitch,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.
He straightened and pointed to the far side of the room.
“Turn your head. Look.”
Nisha turned — and the air left her lungs.
Vidya was there.
Her arms were pulled high above her head and tied to a metal frame. She was completely naked. Her body twisted and struggled, feet barely touching the floor.
“No… nooo!” Nisha’s scream tore out of her throat. “Vidya! How did they get you?! How?!”
Tony gave a small signal with two fingers.
Two of his men stepped forward, gripped Vidya’s ankles, and forced her legs apart.
Nisha’s voice broke into desperate shouts.
“No! Please! Stop! This is between you and me! Leave her out of it! Let her go!”
Vidya’s body jerked as the men held her open. Soft, broken sounds of pain and resistance spilled from her mouth.
Nisha thrashed against her own ropes until her wrists bled. Tears of pure rage and helplessness burned in her eyes.
“Tony, you bastard! If you have any courage, face me alone! Don’t touch her!”
Tony only watched, the cold smile returning to his lips as he looked from one woman to the other.
“Both of you are here now,” he said quietly. “Exactly as I planned. And neither of you is leaving until I decide you can.”
The room stayed filled with the sound of struggling bodies, angry curses, and the heavy silence of men who were in complete control.
Nisha’s mind raced even while her body remained trapped......

[girrich9486]

Nisha’s world had narrowed to the raw, wet sounds of Vidya’s body being used.
The black cloth over her eyes did nothing to shut out the noise. Vidya’s cries rose and fell in broken waves—high, animal, almost musical in their despair. The heavy slap of hips against hips. The wet, rhythmic squelch of a thick cock driving deep into a cunt that had long since stopped trying to resist. The low, satisfied grunts of the man who owned that cock. Every few thrusts Vidya’s voice cracked into a sob that turned into a moan against her will.
Nisha’s wrists burned in the steel cuffs behind her back. Her shoulders ached from the way the two men held her upright, forcing her to stand and listen. She could smell the sex in the air—sweat, arousal, the sharp copper edge of fear. Her own body betrayed her with every breath. The thin black panty she still wore was already damp between her thighs, the fabric clinging to her shaved mound.
Tony’s voice cut through the wet soundtrack like a blade.
“You keep telling me to uncuff you, Nisha. Keep promising you’ll prove yourself. Fine. One hour. We fight. You win, you and your friend walk out of here. You lose…” He let the threat hang. “You accept?”
Nisha’s lips peeled back from her teeth. “You bastard. The second these cuffs come off I’m going to kill you.”
Tony only chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Rest first. You’ll need it.”
The black cloth was shoved over her eyes again. Strong hands lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She kicked, twisted, snarled curses in two languages, but the men only laughed and carried her down a short corridor. A door opened. Soft mattress under her back. Her arms were forced above her head and the cuffs clipped to the headboard. Ankles spread and secured to the foot of the bed. She lay spread-eagled, chest heaving, the thin blouse and short skirt she still wore doing almost nothing to cover her.
Cool air kissed the damp crotch of her panty.
One of the men spoke near her ear, voice thick with amusement. “Sir said make sure the strong lady rests properly.”
Fingers hooked into the waistband of her panty and tugged it aside. Something smooth, egg-shaped, and already buzzing pressed against the slick folds of her cunt. Nisha clenched hard, trying to deny it entry, but the man simply pushed. The first vibrator slid inside her with an obscene wet sound, nesting deep against her front wall. A second followed, seating itself lower, pressing against the first. The panty was pulled back into place, trapping both eggs inside her....










A third vibrator—larger, flatter—was settled directly over her clit and held there by the damp fabric. The remote clicked.
The eggs roared to life.
Nisha’s back arched off the mattress. A raw sound tore from her throat. The dual vibrations inside her cunt were merciless, one grinding against her G-spot, the other filling her completely. The external pad hummed against her clit in a low, relentless pulse. Pleasure slammed through her like a current. She gritted her teeth, muscles locking, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing her moan.
One of the men stayed. She felt the mattress dip beside her hip. A large, calloused hand settled on her left breast through the blouse, testing the heavy weight of it. Thirty-six, full, sensitive. He squeezed slowly, thumb finding the stiff peak of her nipple and rolling it.
“Strong woman,” he murmured. “Let’s see how long you last.”
The vibrators did not stop...















Nisha held out for almost four minutes through sheer will. Her thighs trembled. Sweat beaded between her breasts. Every breath came shorter. The hand on her breast grew bolder, sliding under the blouse, pinching and rolling the nipple until it ached. The second man returned and took her other breast the same way. Two pairs of hands now, working her tits while the eggs inside her cunt and the pad on her clit drove her higher and higher.
The first crack in her control was a broken “Hnnn—” that she couldn’t swallow.
Then another.
Then a full, helpless moan when the man on her left twisted her nipple just as the vibrators pulsed harder.
“No—fuck—stop—”
They did not stop.
Her hips began to move on their own, small, involuntary circles against the mattress, trying to escape the intensity and only grinding the external vibrator harder against her clit. The eggs inside her seemed to swell with every pulse. Wetness soaked through the panty and onto the sheets. The men laughed quietly, admiring the way her body betrayed her—the flush spreading across her chest, the way her stomach clenched, the shiny trail of arousal already visible on her inner thighs.
“Look at that,” one of them said. “Cunt’s dripping already.”
Nisha tried to snarl something back, but the only sound that left her was a high, desperate keening when the vibrations suddenly intensified. The dual eggs hammered her G-spot without mercy. The pad on her clit switched to a rapid flutter. Her entire body went rigid.
The orgasm hit like a truck.
Her back bowed so hard the cuffs bit into her wrists. A raw, broken cry ripped from her throat—part rage, part pure, unwanted ecstasy. Her cunt clamped down on the eggs in hard, rhythmic pulses, milking them as wave after wave crashed through her. The men kept their hands on her breasts the entire time, squeezing and rolling her nipples through the climax, prolonging it until her voice cracked and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes beneath the blindfold.
When it finally released her she collapsed, gasping, every muscle trembling.
They did not remove the vibrators.
The eggs kept buzzing. The pad kept humming. Within minutes the oversensitive aftershocks turned into fresh, unwanted arousal. Nisha thrashed against the restraints, cursing them, cursing Tony, cursing her own body for responding. The men took turns playing with her tits—pinching, sucking the stiff peaks through the thin blouse until the fabric was soaked, leaving dark wet circles over each nipple.
The second orgasm came harder and faster. She sobbed through it, hips jerking wildly, cunt spasming around the eggs. A gush of wetness soaked the sheets beneath her.
By the third she was almost incoherent. The blindfold was damp with tears and sweat. Her voice was hoarse from moaning and cursing. When the climax finally broke her she screamed Tony’s name like a curse and a prayer at the same time, body locked in a full-body seizure of pleasure that left her limp and shaking.
Only then did the vibrators power down.









Only then did the vibrators power down.
Silence, broken only by her ragged breathing and the distant, ongoing wet sounds of Vidya still being fucked somewhere else in the building.
They left her like that for the remainder of the hour—cuffed, blindfolded, legs spread, the two eggs still nested deep inside her spent cunt, the external pad resting against her swollen, oversensitive clit. Every small shift of her hips made the toys shift inside her, sending aftershocks through her exhausted body.
When the door finally opened again she was a wreck.
They uncuffed her slowly. Her arms fell heavy to the mattress. When they pulled the eggs out of her the wet, obscene sound made one of the men chuckle. Her panty was peeled down and discarded, leaving her bare from the waist down. The blindfold came off last.

[girrich9486]

Nisha blinked against the light. Her eyes were glassy, pupils blown. Her lips were swollen from biting them. Sweat-darkened hair stuck to her forehead and neck. Between her thighs her cunt was flushed dark, puffy, glistening, the inner lips still twitching occasionally from the aftershocks.
They hauled her upright. Her knees nearly buckled. The hour of forced pleasure had stolen the steel from her legs. She had to lean on them as they walked her out of the room and down a short hallway into a large, open space with concrete floors and high windows covered in blackout film.
Tony waited in the center, shirtless, rolling his shoulders. He was built like a fighter—broad chest, hard stomach, thick arms. He looked her over with open appreciation, eyes lingering on the dark wet patches over her nipples, the way her bare thighs still trembled, the shiny evidence of her multiple orgasms still visible on her skin.
Vidya was nowhere in sight, but the wet sounds had stopped. Nisha didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Tony smiled without warmth.
“One hour. You rested. Now prove it.”
Nisha forced her spine straight. Every muscle still hummed with residual pleasure and exhaustion, but rage was a better fuel than strength. She raised her fists.
“I’m going to break your fucking jaw.”
Tony only gestured for the goons to step back.
“Then come break it.”
She came at him like a storm.
The first exchange was pure violence. Nisha had trained for years—kickboxing, krav maga, street fights. Even weakened, her punches still carried power. She feinted high and drove a hard knee toward his midsection. Tony blocked it with a forearm and answered with a short, brutal cross that clipped her cheekbone and snapped her head sideways. Stars burst behind her eyes. She tasted blood.
She didn’t stop.
They circled. The concrete was cold under her bare feet. Every time she shifted her weight she felt the lingering slickness between her thighs, the way her cunt still fluttered from the forced orgasms. It distracted her. Tony used it. He kept her moving, making her burn through the last of her reserves, landing body shots that drove the air from her lungs and reminded her how thoroughly her body had already been used.
She landed a solid right hook to his ribs that made him grunt. For a second hope flared. She pressed the advantage, closing distance, throwing combinations. Tony absorbed them, then caught her wrist, twisted, and slammed her back into the wall hard enough to rattle her teeth.
His body pinned hers. She felt the hard length of his cock against her bare stomach through his pants. The contact sent an unwanted jolt straight to her oversensitive clit.
“Still wet,” he murmured against her ear. “Even after three.”...









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“Come on, strong woman. Show me.”
She attacked again. This time the fight turned uglier, more intimate. Every clinch became a struggle for control that left her pressed against him, tits mashed to his chest, his thigh forcing its way between hers. She could feel how hard he was. She hated that her body responded—fresh wetness gathering, nipples tightening against the thin fabric of her blouse every time they brushed his skin.
Tony fought dirty and he fought smart. He let her tire herself out. When her punches started losing power he caught her arm, spun her, and locked her against his chest from behind. One thick arm banded under her breasts. The other hand slid down her stomach and cupped her bare cunt without hesitation.
Nisha bucked and cursed. His fingers found her clit easily—still swollen, still slick—and rubbed in slow, deliberate circles while she struggled.
“Feel that?” His voice was low, almost gentle. “Your body doesn’t care that you hate me. It’s already ready again.”
Two fingers slid inside her without warning. She was so wet there was almost no resistance. The stretch made her moan against her will. Tony fucked those fingers into her in short, hard thrusts while his other hand kept her pinned, thumb flicking one stiff nipple through the blouse.
She tried to fight. She really did. But the hour of vibrators had left her nerves raw and hungry. Within seconds her hips were rolling to meet his hand, chasing the friction even as she spat every filthy insult she knew.
He brought her right to the edge and stopped....


Finally she has been collapsed. And accepted her defeat...


Nisha lay on the cold concrete, chest still heaving, the torn edges of her blouse hanging open. One heavy breast was fully exposed, the dark nipple tight and glistening from where Tony’s mouth or fingers had been earlier. Between her spread thighs his thick cum mixed with her own juices, slowly leaking out of her used cunt in warm, sticky trails that ran down over her ass and pooled on the floor. Her legs trembled. Every small movement sent fresh sparks through her oversensitive clit and the still-swollen walls of her pussy.
She forced her eyes open and glared up at him.
“You… you pig,” she rasped, voice raw. “If you were a real man you wouldn’t have done that to me first… and then fought me. You cheated.”
Tony stood over her, still half-hard, the head of his cock shiny with her wetness and his own release. He raised one eyebrow, almost amused.
“What did I do to you, Nisha?” he asked softly. “Tell me.”
She opened her mouth. The words locked in her throat. She could not say it—could not admit out loud that two powerful vibrator eggs had been buried deep inside her cunt for a full hour, that a third pad had buzzed relentlessly against her clit while the goons played with her tits, that she had come three times against her will until her strength was gone. The shame of it burned hotter than the bruises.
Instead of answering, her body answered for her.
A fresh trickle of mixed cum and cunt juice slipped out of her and slid down the cleft of her ass. The wet sound was soft but unmistakable in the quiet room. Nisha’s cheeks flushed darker. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to hide it, but the movement only made more of the slick fluid squeeze out.
Tony’s eyes dropped between her legs. He watched the slow drip with open satisfaction.
“Look at that,” he murmured. “Still leaking. Still so wet. And you can’t even say the words.”
He crouched down beside her, close enough that she could smell her own scent on his skin. One thick finger reached out and traced a lazy circle around her navel. The small silver ring that pierced it caught the light. Nisha’s stomach jumped under the touch. Her navel had always been sensitive—too sensitive—and the ring made every brush of contact sharper.
Tony’s voice dropped lower, almost intimate.
“Remember that night, Nisha? When I was drunk. When you thought you were so clever. You defeated me. You left me on the floor like I was nothing. My bitch.” He smiled without warmth. “Tit for tat. What I did to you tonight… is also correct.”
He laughed softly, the sound low and dark.
Then he leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“Nisha… be ready for tomorrow.”
His fingers closed gently around the navel ring. He gave it the lightest, most deliberate tug.
The sensation shot straight down to her cunt. A sharp, helpless “Hmmmmm—nooooo…” spilled from her throat before she could stop it. Her hips twitched. Another warm trickle of fluid slipped out of her.
Tony’s breath warmed her ear.
“Tomorrow is our first night. Be prepared. Be ready. If you don’t cooperate…” His free hand gestured toward the side of the room where Vidya sat slumped against the wall, wrists still bound, eyes wide and wet, watching everything. “Then those moans of hers will start again. Louder. Longer. All night if I want.”
He plucked the navel ring once more—slow, precise, almost playful—and Nisha’s back arched off the concrete with another broken sound. Her empty cunt clenched around nothing, still fluttering from the earlier fucking, still greedy despite the anger burning in her chest.
Tony rose to his full height. He looked down at her stretched, trembling body—the torn blouse, the heavy exposed breast, the shiny wet mess between her thighs, the way her navel ring glinted under the light—and something dark and hungry settled in his expression.
“Rest while you can,” he said. “Tomorrow I take what’s mine properly. No toys. No goons. Just you and me. And if you’re a good girl… maybe your friend gets to keep her voice.”
He turned and walked away, leaving Nisha on the floor with her legs still weakly open, juices continuing to drip, the phantom tug of the navel ring still echoing through her body, and the cold promise of tomorrow already settling into her bones.
Vidya’s soft, shaky breathing was the only other sound in the room.
Nisha closed her eyes...

[girrich9486]

They led her down a quieter corridor after the others had left. One of the goons unlocked a plain door and pushed it open. Inside was a simple room—narrow bed with clean sheets, a small table, a chair, a window covered by thick curtains that let in almost no light. A tray of food waited on the table: rice, dal, a few pieces of roti, a glass of water.
They left her there without a word. The lock clicked shut behind them.
Nisha stood in the middle of the room for a long time, bare feet on the cool floor, the torn edges of her blouse still hanging open. The air smelled faintly of detergent and dust. Her body ached in places she did not want to name. Between her thighs she could still feel the sticky, cooling evidence of what Tony had done to her—his cum mixed with her own juices, slowly drying on her skin. Every small step made the residual slickness pull and release.
She walked to the bed and sat down carefully. The mattress was firmer than she expected. For a moment she simply stared at the tray of food. Her stomach was empty, but the thought of eating made her throat close.
Then the grief arrived.
It came quietly at first, like water seeping under a door. She had been held together by rage and adrenaline for hours. Now, alone, the rage drained away and left only the raw wound underneath.
Raghu.
She had respected him. Trusted him. In the old days she would have put her life in his hands without a second thought. And Priya—soft-spoken, gentle Priya whom she had treated like a younger sister. She had celebrated their marriage. She had held Priya’s hand through difficult nights. She had believed they were family.
And they had sold her.
The knowledge sat in her chest like a stone. How long had they been planning it? How many smiles had been lies? The thought of Priya’s face—warm, familiar—twisted into something ugly in her mind. Betrayal from enemies she could understand. Betrayal from people she had loved felt like a different kind of violence entirely.
And Vidya.
Nisha closed her eyes. She could still hear the broken sounds Vidya had made earlier, the way her voice had cracked between pain and unwilling pleasure. What was happening to her now, in some other room in this same building? Was she alone? Was someone still using her? Nisha’s hands curled into fists on the sheets. She had brought Vidya into this world of risk. She was supposed to protect her. Instead she had failed her completely.
Escape.
The word rose automatically, the old reflex of a woman who had always found a way out. She scanned the room with practiced eyes—window (barred or sealed, she already knew), door (heavy, locked), possible weapons (nothing useful). The building was full of men who answered to Tony. Cameras, almost certainly. Guards. And her own body was still weak, still trembling with the aftershocks of the vibrators and the rough fucking on the concrete. Her legs felt unreliable. Her cunt was swollen and sore. Even if she somehow got past the door, she would not get far.
This time it was not going to be easy.
The first tears surprised her. They burned at the corners of her eyes and then spilled over, silent and hot. She did not wipe them away. For the first time in years the thought of her parents rose unbidden—her mother’s voice, the smell of her father’s old shawl, the small house she had left behind so long ago. And her husband. The quiet, steady man who had once waited for her without questions. She had pushed the memory of him so far down that it felt almost foreign now. Missing them felt like another kind of defeat.
Nisha lay down on the bed without undressing further. The sheets were cool against her bare back where the blouse had torn. She curled onto her side, knees drawn up, one arm folded under her head. The navel ring pressed lightly against the mattress and sent a small, unwanted pulse of sensation through her. She ignored it.
Outside the locked door the building settled into night sounds—distant footsteps, the occasional murmur of voices, the low hum of something mechanical. Inside the room there was only her breathing and the slow, stubborn drip of tears onto the pillow.
Eventually the exhaustion won.
Her thoughts grew heavier, slower. The grief did not leave, but it sank beneath a thick layer of fatigue. She thought of Tony’s final words—tomorrow, their first night, the threat hanging over Vidya—and a cold certainty settled in her chest.
Something bigger was coming.
She did not know yet what shape it would take. She only knew that when morning arrived she would no longer be the same woman who had walked into this place.



Morning light filtered weakly through the thick curtains when the lock turned.
Tony stepped inside as if he owned the air itself. He was freshly showered, dressed in a dark shirt open at the throat, the scent of clean soap and faint cologne following him. He stopped a few paces from the bed where Nisha sat upright, the torn remains of yesterday’s clothes still on her body, her hair tangled, the faint marks of the previous night still visible on her skin.
“Good morning, my dear Nisha,” he said, voice smooth and almost fond. “A spy queen.”
She looked at him with pure, undiluted anger. The rage that had banked overnight flared again in her eyes. She said nothing.
Tony only smiled.
“Cool, baby. Cool.”
He closed the distance in two slow steps. Two fingers rose and settled lightly against her lower lip, tracing the soft curve as if testing the heat of her. Nisha’s breath caught; she jerked her head back, but he followed the movement, keeping the contact for another second before letting his hand fall.
From behind him one of the men held out a neatly folded saree—deep maroon silk with a thin gold border—and a sleeveless blouse of the same colour, cut low and tight. Tony took them and laid the garments across the foot of the bed.
“Clean yourself,” he said. “Everything. Be ready by evening.”
“No way.” The words left her rough and final.
Tony’s expression did not change. He simply leaned closer until his mouth was near her ear.
“Then you can forget about your friend.” A pause, soft and deliberate. “Today I want to enjoy your body inch by inch. The whole night. Every part of you. If you make it difficult… Vidya pays for it.”
He straightened, gave her one last lingering look that travelled from her lips down the open line of her torn blouse to the bare stretch of her stomach and the still-visible navel ring, then turned and walked out. The lock clicked firmly behind him.
Silence returned.
Nisha sat motionless for a long minute. Then the restless energy that rest had given her took over. She rose and searched the room with methodical, trained eyes. She checked every corner of the bed frame, the underside of the table, the edges of the window, the door hinges, the ceiling vent. Nothing useful. The window was sealed from the outside. The door was solid. No vents large enough. No weak points. The room had been prepared for someone exactly like her.
She did not lose hope—not completely—but the practical part of her mind catalogued the truth with cold clarity. Escape was highly impossible right now.
She sat back down on the edge of the bed, disappointment heavy in her chest.
Sometime later the door opened again just long enough for a tray to be set inside: more food, a set of expensive black lingerie—sheer lace bra and matching thong, delicate and deliberately provocative—and a small kit of body removers, soft cloths, and scented oils. Nisha stared at the items for a moment, then swept everything off the table with one angry motion. The lingerie landed in a dark heap on the floor. The bottles rolled.
She left them there.
In the afternoon another tray arrived. This time she ate. The rice and dal were plain but hot; her body needed the fuel. She cleaned the plate, drank the water, and returned to sitting on the bed, staring at the locked door, turning over every possible angle and finding none that would work.
Evening came without her touching the saree or the blouse.
When the lock turned again, Tony entered with two of his men behind him. He took in the untouched clothes, the discarded lingerie on the floor, the stubborn set of Nisha’s shoulders, and a slow smile curved his mouth.
“She’s a tough woman,” he said, almost to himself. “I know how to bend tough women.”
He gave a small sign.
The men stepped aside. Between them they brought Vidya.
She was dressed in the same style of black lingerie Nisha had thrown away—sheer lace that barely contained her full breasts, the thin thong already sitting low on her hips. Her makeup had been done carefully: dark-lined eyes, glossy lips, a soft flush on her cheeks that could have been cosmetics or something else. Her wrists were unbound now, but the way she stood showed she had not been given a choice. Her eyes found Nisha’s immediately—wide, frightened, and shining with unshed tears.
The men pushed her forward. Vidya stumbled into the room. The door closed and locked behind the three of them.
Tony looked from one woman to the other, satisfaction settling deep in his expression.
“Now,” he said quietly, “we begin.”..












Nisha’s voice cracked the moment the door locked behind the men.
“No—please. Don’t hurt Vidya anymore.” The words came out raw, stripped of the earlier defiance. She took one step forward, then another, until she stood between Tony and the younger woman. “Please. I’m bargaining. Don’t touch her again.”
Tony’s expression stayed cold, almost clinical.
“I know,” he said. “But you’re not obeying me. So I should hurt Vidya.”
“No—please don’t hurt her.” Nisha’s hands lifted, open, empty. “Please don’t hurt her.”
He waited, eyes steady on her face.
The silence stretched until Nisha’s shoulders dropped. Her voice, when it finally came, was almost a whisper.
“Okay. I will do… whatever you want.”
Tony nodded once, as if the answer had never been in doubt.
“Go to the bathroom. Freshen up. Come back clean.” His gaze flicked to Vidya. “Until then, I have to talk to your friend.”
Nisha hesitated only a second longer, then turned and walked into the small attached bathroom. The door closed softly behind her. Water began to run.
The moment they were alone, Tony’s attention shifted completely to Vidya. He stepped closer, the predator’s unhurried confidence in every movement. Vidya stood frozen in the sheer black lingerie, arms crossed loosely over her stomach as if that could hide anything.
“You will obey me,” he said, voice low and absolute. “Otherwise I will kill your friend Nisha. Or I will torture her slowly while you watch. Do you understand?”
Vidya’s throat worked. Tears gathered but did not fall. She gave a tiny, broken nod.
“I… accept.”
Tony’s smile was small and satisfied. He closed the last of the distance. Both of his hands rose and settled over the full, lace-covered curves of her breasts. He held them firmly, testing the weight, then began to press—slow, deliberate squeezes that made the soft flesh spill between his fingers. The thin lace rasped against his palms. Vidya’s breath hitched. He leaned in and kissed her, not roughly, but with a thorough, claiming pressure, tongue sliding past her lips while his hands continued their steady kneading. One thumb found a nipple through the lace and rolled it until it stiffened. Vidya made a small, helpless sound into his mouth.
He kept kissing her, kept pressing and shaping her breasts, until the bathroom door opened again.
Nisha stepped out.
She had washed thoroughly. Her hair was damp and combed back. She wore the new innerwear beneath the deep maroon saree and the sleeveless blouse. The saree was dbangd in the most traditional, covering way she could manage—tightly across her chest so that not even the hint of cleavage showed, the pleats arranged to hide her navel completely, the pallu drawn high and pinned so that almost nothing of her figure remained visible. She looked deliberately orthodox, almost severe, as if the layers of silk could armour her.
Tony released Vidya’s breasts and turned. The smile that spread across his face was slow and darkly pleased.
“Very good girl.”
He held out a hand.
“Now come along with me. Both of you.”
Nisha moved first. The moment she stepped within reach he caught her wrist, turned it, and snapped a pair of steel handcuffs around it, then the other. The metal clicked shut with finality. He gave the chain a short test tug.
“I know you’re a fox,” he murmured. “I’m not taking chances.”
He kept one hand on the short chain between her cuffs and the other lightly at the small of Vidya’s back. The three of them left the room and walked deeper into the building—down a shorter corridor, through a heavier door that Tony unlocked with a key from his pocket.
The inner room opened in front of them.
Nisha stopped so abruptly that the cuff chain jerked. Vidya made a small, shocked sound beside her.
Neither woman spoke.
Whatever waited inside that room had frozen both of them in place...


When the door open and stepped inside then both Nisha and Vidya shocked....

[girrich9486]

Please give feed back..

[poorangyan]

Wonderfully written. Bravo!

[Shabaz123]

Awesome hot update bro..Your writing skills are simply unmatched, bro... mind-blowing!

[Umavictor32]

Nice update

[Arya321]

Super update. Very nice

[Tamilmathi]

Hot and killing updates,,,
Unexpected things happened nisha life...
Its that any possiable to escape nisha?
Big suprise ,,, maybe ragu is there?

[sidewall09]

Very good update

[Chinni9]

Wow excellent writing big update now words for ur writing keep going