11-12-2018, 11:50 AM
"How do you think she'll react when I tell her what her perverted pussy boy husband has been up to yesterday?" For the 2nd time during this conversation, my knees gave way and I held on to a table to steady myself. "Yeah, that's right, she'll leave you, pussy boy. And good for her, she deserves better than you, you perverted weak pussy boy."
I got desperate hearing that. "Please, Prem, “I begged. "Please don't tell her."
"Why not, pussy boy? You masturbated imagining your lovely wife with me, why shouldn't she know that? Maybe she'll like to know her pathetic husband actually has a functioning dick, maybe she thinks your dick doesn't perform any more, given how much sex you've had in the last week."
"Please, Prem", I implored. "Please let this be between us, please don't tell her."
"Why should I listen to you, pussy boy? You just broke into my trunk and viewed my private photographs without my permission. Why should I listen to you at all?"
"Please, Prem, I love Kavita and I don't want to lose her."
"Oh? So you think she'll leave you if she finds out?" I hung my head down. I KNEW she would leave me if she found out about it, especially from Prem. As for myself, I didn't see a way I could bring myself to confess to Kavita, and not have the same outcome, of her leaving me in disgust. Prem continued, "Pathetic perverted pussy boys like you don't deserve a lovely wife like Kavita. You know that, pussy boy?" I hung my head down again. Prem raised his voice, "Answer me yes or no, pussy boy."
I tried to resist finally, after all these minutes of his bullying. Regardless of what I did in his room, I shouldn't let him dictate or decide the 'terms' of my relationship with Kavita. In a trembling voice, I said, "Please don't address me like that."
"Like what, pussy boy?"
"Like you're calling me right now."
"I've been calling you 'pussy boy' for a while now, pussy boy. And you've been answering me. What do you think that means, pussy boy?" Again, a tear dripped down my eye as I realized what he was saying: he had been calling me by those insulting names for a while now, and I had been shamelessly responding to it; like he probably expected me to. "So let's get back to the point, pussy boy. Do perverted pussy boys like you deserve a lovely wife like Kavita?" I weakly shook my head to indicate no. "Look at me and answer me yes or no, pussy boy."
I brought my neck up to meet his face. I was burning with embarrassment as I answered, "No."
"That's correct. And why does she have to put up with a pathetic pervert like you, she can do better than you, MUCH better. Why should she not know what happened here yesterday, pussy boy?"
The tears were flowing down my eyes more at the repetition of that threat. "Please, Prem, I don't want to lose her, I'll do anything to not lose her, even if I don't deserve her.", I bawled.
After a pregnant pause, Prem continued, "I'm going to teach you a lesson, pussy boy. When I'm done, you won’t masturbate imagine your wife with another man again, you perverted little pussy boy. And you won't go around looking in another man's private pictures like a little perverted boy."
My throat was dry enough, I had lost my voice. I tried again, "What kind of lesson, Prem?"
"Oh you'll find out, pussy boy. One thing. Do not call me 'Prem' in private again. 'Prem' is a nickname my friends use for me, and you forfeited that right by looking into my trunk without my permission. You can call me 'Prem' in front of your wife, but otherwise, you're to address me as 'Amir' or 'Amir Ali', Do you understand?" I nodded weakly to indicate yes.
Prem continued, "Again, I will be monitoring your behavior on a continuous basis, pussy-boy. If you start acting like a smart ass, your pretty wife Kavita will get all the information about what you did yesterday. And then you'll lose her before you can even jerk yourself off one more time. You understand that, right, pussy-boy?"
"But what do you want me to do, Prem?"
He glared at me. I withered under his glare, and I rephrased the question.
"But what do you want me to do, Amir?"
"You'll know over time, pussy boy. But, for starters, you could help your lovely wife more in domestic work. You do realize a pussy boy like you is very lucky to have her as your wife, right?" This was something that I could do. I didn't mind helping her in domestic chores, it was just that work and my work routine often ended up with Kavita doing most of the house-work. With relief in my voice, I admitted my short-coming there, and told Prem with full sincerity that I would help her out whenever I could. I could feel the embarrassment leave my face.
Prem responded, "Good. She will appreciate a more humble and helpful attitude from you, considering what a pathetic fuck you probably are." After another pause, Prem continued, "Yeah, you need some changes around here. A pathetic pussy-boy like you can't be allowed to waste away a fine lovely woman like your wife Kavita." I nodded glumly. Though I didn't have a problem pitching in with house-work as Prem suggested, my gut told me that he wasn't going to let it rest at merely getting me to help Kavita more with the housework.
Prem appeared to sense this, "You don't look happy to be helping your wife more, pussy boy." Truth be told, I was feeling tired, defeated, by that time, because of the conversation we had been having. The conversation had left me with beads of perspiration flowing all over my head. I told him that I would love to help her in whatever way I could. Prem contemplated this and said after a few moments, "Don't worry, pussy boy. If you behave well, you might get to see what you wanted to see yesterday but didn't manage to."
My stomach twisted again. Did he mean he would 'show' me the 'missing K.J photographs'? I contemplated this in silence. Prem continued, "Yeah, am pretty sure you'll jerk off like you did yesterday, pervert boy." I lowered my head and kept quiet. If 'K.J' was my wife Kavita, would I masturbate again? After all this? As though reading my thoughts, Prem asked, "You think you wouldn't jerk off, and you'd act like a MAN, pussy boy?"
Even though I knew it wasn't true, I felt an urge to fight back, to resist, finally. I nodded to say 'Yes.'
I got desperate hearing that. "Please, Prem, “I begged. "Please don't tell her."
"Why not, pussy boy? You masturbated imagining your lovely wife with me, why shouldn't she know that? Maybe she'll like to know her pathetic husband actually has a functioning dick, maybe she thinks your dick doesn't perform any more, given how much sex you've had in the last week."
"Please, Prem", I implored. "Please let this be between us, please don't tell her."
"Why should I listen to you, pussy boy? You just broke into my trunk and viewed my private photographs without my permission. Why should I listen to you at all?"
"Please, Prem, I love Kavita and I don't want to lose her."
"Oh? So you think she'll leave you if she finds out?" I hung my head down. I KNEW she would leave me if she found out about it, especially from Prem. As for myself, I didn't see a way I could bring myself to confess to Kavita, and not have the same outcome, of her leaving me in disgust. Prem continued, "Pathetic perverted pussy boys like you don't deserve a lovely wife like Kavita. You know that, pussy boy?" I hung my head down again. Prem raised his voice, "Answer me yes or no, pussy boy."
I tried to resist finally, after all these minutes of his bullying. Regardless of what I did in his room, I shouldn't let him dictate or decide the 'terms' of my relationship with Kavita. In a trembling voice, I said, "Please don't address me like that."
"Like what, pussy boy?"
"Like you're calling me right now."
"I've been calling you 'pussy boy' for a while now, pussy boy. And you've been answering me. What do you think that means, pussy boy?" Again, a tear dripped down my eye as I realized what he was saying: he had been calling me by those insulting names for a while now, and I had been shamelessly responding to it; like he probably expected me to. "So let's get back to the point, pussy boy. Do perverted pussy boys like you deserve a lovely wife like Kavita?" I weakly shook my head to indicate no. "Look at me and answer me yes or no, pussy boy."
I brought my neck up to meet his face. I was burning with embarrassment as I answered, "No."
"That's correct. And why does she have to put up with a pathetic pervert like you, she can do better than you, MUCH better. Why should she not know what happened here yesterday, pussy boy?"
The tears were flowing down my eyes more at the repetition of that threat. "Please, Prem, I don't want to lose her, I'll do anything to not lose her, even if I don't deserve her.", I bawled.
After a pregnant pause, Prem continued, "I'm going to teach you a lesson, pussy boy. When I'm done, you won’t masturbate imagine your wife with another man again, you perverted little pussy boy. And you won't go around looking in another man's private pictures like a little perverted boy."
My throat was dry enough, I had lost my voice. I tried again, "What kind of lesson, Prem?"
"Oh you'll find out, pussy boy. One thing. Do not call me 'Prem' in private again. 'Prem' is a nickname my friends use for me, and you forfeited that right by looking into my trunk without my permission. You can call me 'Prem' in front of your wife, but otherwise, you're to address me as 'Amir' or 'Amir Ali', Do you understand?" I nodded weakly to indicate yes.
Prem continued, "Again, I will be monitoring your behavior on a continuous basis, pussy-boy. If you start acting like a smart ass, your pretty wife Kavita will get all the information about what you did yesterday. And then you'll lose her before you can even jerk yourself off one more time. You understand that, right, pussy-boy?"
"But what do you want me to do, Prem?"
He glared at me. I withered under his glare, and I rephrased the question.
"But what do you want me to do, Amir?"
"You'll know over time, pussy boy. But, for starters, you could help your lovely wife more in domestic work. You do realize a pussy boy like you is very lucky to have her as your wife, right?" This was something that I could do. I didn't mind helping her in domestic chores, it was just that work and my work routine often ended up with Kavita doing most of the house-work. With relief in my voice, I admitted my short-coming there, and told Prem with full sincerity that I would help her out whenever I could. I could feel the embarrassment leave my face.
Prem responded, "Good. She will appreciate a more humble and helpful attitude from you, considering what a pathetic fuck you probably are." After another pause, Prem continued, "Yeah, you need some changes around here. A pathetic pussy-boy like you can't be allowed to waste away a fine lovely woman like your wife Kavita." I nodded glumly. Though I didn't have a problem pitching in with house-work as Prem suggested, my gut told me that he wasn't going to let it rest at merely getting me to help Kavita more with the housework.
Prem appeared to sense this, "You don't look happy to be helping your wife more, pussy boy." Truth be told, I was feeling tired, defeated, by that time, because of the conversation we had been having. The conversation had left me with beads of perspiration flowing all over my head. I told him that I would love to help her in whatever way I could. Prem contemplated this and said after a few moments, "Don't worry, pussy boy. If you behave well, you might get to see what you wanted to see yesterday but didn't manage to."
My stomach twisted again. Did he mean he would 'show' me the 'missing K.J photographs'? I contemplated this in silence. Prem continued, "Yeah, am pretty sure you'll jerk off like you did yesterday, pervert boy." I lowered my head and kept quiet. If 'K.J' was my wife Kavita, would I masturbate again? After all this? As though reading my thoughts, Prem asked, "You think you wouldn't jerk off, and you'd act like a MAN, pussy boy?"
Even though I knew it wasn't true, I felt an urge to fight back, to resist, finally. I nodded to say 'Yes.'
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