How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 4
For the next few hours, everything was fine. We took in a comedy show, met a whole host of mughal era characters and I ate a huge amount of barbecued meat. There was ale, too, which I liked and Nandini didn’t, and mead, which she loved and I didn’t care for. We soon both had a buzz going—not actually drunk, but appropriately merry for a nauchandi.

Nandini got a lot of attention. Almost every man we passed took his time leering at her cleavage—far too many for her to be unaware of it. She didn’t seem to mind as much as I’d thought she would, though. She seemed different—excitable, like a horse that can sense a storm coming. She seemed to be breathing high and fast, and her eyes were gleaming. Flighty. She seemed flighty.

I got some attention, too. Quite a few people, men and women, glanced down at the front of my tights as they passed. I eventually looked down and realized to my horror that my cock was standing erect, its outline clearly visible beneath the thin fabric. You could see I was hard and, worse, you could see my size.

I’m not the biggest guy. I mean, I’m not tiny, but I’m not hung. I reddened as I realized that everyone walking towards us had seen me…judged me. And I couldn’t lose my hard-on. The sight of my wife right in front of me, with her tight ass swaying and her breasts bouncing, with all the other men staring at her…I was permanently hard. I had no choice but to walk around like that and suffer the looks from other people. It hit me that the lohar hadn’t been looking at my costume when he’d given me that final sneer. He’d been looking at my erection. I reassured myself that there was no way he could know that it was the sight of him kissing my wife that did it to me.

“Do you want to try that?” asked my wife. She was pointing towards a tamboo filled with couples dancing. We could only get a few glimpses through the tamboo mouth because it was pretty dark inside. I wasn’t much of a dancer, but it didn’t look too difficult. A sign outside said “Adults Only, Role Play.” I only had a hazy idea of what role playing was, but I presumed we could figure it out.

Inside, the tamboo had been lit with candles and a quartet of musicians with lutes and harps were providing the music. The dance seemed to be some sort of formal, lords and ladies thing where you followed the directions of a caller at the front. Everyone but us was in elaborate embroidered gowns or suits with frilly shirts.

I took my wife’s hands and started to dance. God, she looked amazing in the dress, with her long brown hair shining in the candlelight and her smile gleaming as she giggled. I felt like the luckiest man alive. We stepped past each other, turned, linked arms, and turned again, copying everyone else. I held her corseted waist, marveling at her new look. Nandini’s figure was great already, but with the corset exaggerating her hourglass shape she was stunning. And she appeared to be having a good time. For the first time since we arrived, I started to really enjoy the nauchandi as a couple, instead of just thinking about the men staring at her. We should do this again, I thought.

Then the caller said to change partners.

I had to move one way, towards a red-haired woman, and my wife had to move the other, towards a guy with curly black hair. I could see Nandini blink in surprise, her eyes going wide as the guy closed in on her. She glanced between him and me. Is it okay? she seemed to ask.

I nodded quickly. Of course it was fine if she danced with someone else. I mean, it was only dancing.

A little voice spoke up in my head. Unless it turns into something more.

Which was stupid. I was right there in the tamboo with her. It wasn’t going to turn into anything.

But you’d sort of like it if it did, teased the voice.

I looked at my wife again. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but staring up at the guy who was dancing with her. He was big, like the lohar, and was dressed up as some sort of nobleman, with a shirt that was stretched tight over a broad chest. As I watched, he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Something jumped inside me, a mixture of panic, jealousy and lust. It’s fine, I thought. It’s just a dance.

“Boy,” the woman standing in front of me said, “Do you care to dance, or not?”

I flushed and took her waist, and we began to dance. She was quite pretty, a few years younger than me, with a green low-cut dress that displayed a mouth-watering scoop of pale cleavage. Dancing with her, though, meant I couldn’t keep an eye on my wife. I kept trying to look over the woman’s shoulder, but the room was packed and I couldn’t see Nandini anywhere.

The woman twirled around, sending her auburn hair out in an arc, and spun into my arms, her ass pressed up against the bulge in my tights. “Oh my,” she said lightly. “I do believe the stable lad is excited.”

I flushed bright red and gave her a sheepish smile. And then, through a break in the crowd, I saw my wife.

She was standing in the same position as my partner, with her back pressed up against the man’s chest. Her ass was snugged just as tightly into his groin, but…I swallowed. The guy had tight trousers on and he, too, had a noticeable bulge there. A much bigger one than I had.

My eyes tracked upward. He had an arm around my wife’s waist, and she had an arm thrown up around his neck. Her head was on his shoulder, her eyes closed. As I watched, I saw his gaze rake over her exposed cleavage. He grinned to himself.

My partner twirled away from me, pulling me to a different part of the dance floor and I lost sight of my wife. Minutes passed before I saw her again. This time she was facing her partner, snuggled up close against him, his hands on her back. Then, as I watched, his hands snaked down and clasped her ass.

Something like an electric shock went through me, crackling down through my chest. My own partner was forgotten as I watched his large hands smooth over my wife’s ass and then squeeze.

My wife pulled her head back a little, looking shocked, then reached back and lifted his hands off her ass and back to her waist. The guy just grinned, leaned down and whispered something in her ear. I saw her blush, breathing hard for a second—almost panting. The guy then slowly and deliberately put his hands back on her ass.

She left them there.

The crowd closed up and I lost sight of her. I danced an automatic pilot, only vaguely stumbling through the steps. Inside I was raging, torn between the desire to run over there and drag the man off her and the need to watch. Why was she letting him grope her? Maybe it was just accepted here.

I tried it for myself. I slid my hands from my partner’s back down to her ass.

She leaned back to look at me and then there was the whistle of something whipping through the air. My head jerked to one side, pain exploding across my cheek, and I realized I’d just been slapped.

Everyone around us turned to stare. The music stopped, and it all went very quiet. “How dare you, boy!” the woman said loudly, and everyone laughed. “Do you take me for some strumpet?”

I flushed red and released her. “I’m sorry! I thought it was all…part of the dance.”

She tossed her hair theatrically and sniffed. “A stable boy shouldn’t even be allowed at this sort of occasion,” she told the woman next to her, who nodded. “He certainly shouldn’t try to besmirch a lady’s honor.”

I glimpsed my wife through the crowd again and my jaw dropped. The man she’d been dancing with had scooped her up into his arms and was carrying her. She had her arms around his neck and was staring into his eyes. Her lehenga was rucked up above her knees, and the combination of bare skin and knee-high jooti was alluring.

I backed away from my partner, my face stinging, putting my hands up in apology as her friends harangued me for being an “uncouth beast.” She didn’t seem all that annoyed…in fact, the whole thing felt like an act.

And then I remembered the Role Play sign outside and it clicked. She was playing a role, and so was I. Part of the fun was doing things you normally wouldn’t, if the role permitted it. A woman could dress up as a noblewoman and be danced by some dashing prince who wasn’t her husband. A man who had a lowly real-life job could pretend to be rich, and a woman who was a high-powered lawyer in real life could play at being a lowly serving vaishya. It wasn’t that I’d grabbed her ass. It was that a stable boy—a peasant—had grabbed her ass, when she was a lady. No doubt if I’d been dressed as a lord, she’d have accepted it. No wonder it’s an adults only event! Everyone was using it as an excuse to hook up!

Then I remembered Nandini. She was in a vaishya’s outfit, surrounded by men playing rich, powerful lords.

I fought my way through the crowd towards where I’d last seen her. There was a huge mound of silken cushions in one corner of the tamboo where people could flop to take a break. There was quite a bit of kissing going on, but I couldn’t see my wife anywhere.

Then, right at the back in the semi-darkness, I saw her. She was sitting on his lap, his arms around her waist, blushing as he muttered in her ear. As I watched, he pulled her a little tighter to him and she gasped.

I went to approach them…and then veered off and turned my back, breathing hard. Suddenly, a different idea had popped into my head. What if I didn’t intervene? What if I just watched?

It was dark at the back of the tamboo, and if I stayed away from the candles I was almost invisible. I crept closer, until I could hear them.

“I told you on the dance floor, vaishya, you will learn to obey me or I’ll have you arrested and strung up. I know your sort, arriving aboard some daaku’s galleon and bringing disorder and ruin to a respectable town.”