How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 7
“Let’s see,” said the raja. I was so shocked that I didn’t pick up on what he was intending until he was actually doing it, and then my jaw dropped in horror.

He began to search her. He couldn’t take her clothes off, of course—this was a Mughal-e-azam nauchandi, not a BDSM club. But he could run his hands all over her body to “check for weapons.” I saw him cup her breasts and squeeze, and trace the lines of her corseted waist, and fondle her ass and run his hands up and down her thighs. Of course, my wife writhed and pleaded, her face red. But, just as before, she was careful not to struggle so hard as to break his grasp. And I could see her getting more and more aroused with every touch of his hands. Helpless, she’d said. Something about being helpless.

The crowd loved it. The men, especially. And for a second, I was back in the street again, on our wedding anniversary, imagining the guy pulling her to him and running his hands over her body. Wasn’t this exactly what I’d wanted? My cock was hard. I was getting off on it...but along with the arousal there was a burning jealousy. And a jagged edge of fear...I could feel things sliding out of control.

“No more weapons,” the raja told the crowd in a loud voice. “Unless she’s carrying a tiny dagger in some secret place. Perhaps I’ll search her more thoroughly, back at the palace.”

The crowd cheered and laughed. My initial shock started to pass and I felt white-hot rage swell inside me. Nandini was clearly consenting to all this—in fact, she was loving it—but she was my wife. The raja couldn’t just—couldn’t just—

I stepped forward. “Stop, sire,” I said, wishing I could make my voice boom like the king’s.

The raja put his hand on my chest and pushed. It wasn’t a very hard push, only designed to send me staggering backward a few feet. Just part of the show. But I wasn’t ready for it and I went tumbling onto my ass.

Everyone laughed.

“Do not attempt to interfere with insaf, citizen,” the raja told me. He gave me an apologetic look for the benefit of the crowd, but I knew he wasn’t really sorry at all. Nandini looked concerned for a second, but then he pulled her hard against him and she just sort of went limp against, looking up at him with huge eyes.

I watched from the ground as he tied her wrists together in front of her with a leather thong. Nandini just stood there and stared at her wrists as he did it, as if it was the most wondrous thing she’d ever seen and I knew from her expression that she must be moistening at the feeling of being tied. The raja climbed up into his saddle, taking Nandini’s belt of weapons with him, then easily swung her up to sit in front of him, her ass pressed against his groin.

“But...but she’s my wife!” I said from the ground.

“You can see her in the stocks,” the raja told me. “The same as everyone else.” And he urged his horse into a gallop. The crowd cheered again and ran after him, wanting to see the next part of the show.

I got slowly to my feet, my eyes locked on the horse and its two passengers. The raja was having to press up against my wife to use the reins, their bodies molded together from groin to shoulder. I wondered if his cock was hard, if she could feel his hardness rubbing against her ass. And then I saw him take the reins in just one hand and snug his other arm around her waist, holding her tightly. Just to ensure she didn’t fall off as they sped through the nauchandi, of course. Except I could see his hand come up to cup first one breast and then the other, and the way she writhed against him in reaction. And I saw him stroke her tummy in small circles, as if relishing her flatness. The sight of it sent crackling bolts of heat straight down to my groin, but at the same time I was becoming more and more afraid.

Rattling around my brain was this wasn’t supposed to happen! But Nandini hadn’t broken the rules we set. I hadn’t told her to stop and so she’d gone ahead, and was having the time of her life.

I knew now that there was something deep and powerful inside my wife that I hadn’t known about, a need to submit to a dominant man. It had come to the surface when she’d put on the costume—I suddenly remembered how she’d reacted to the feeling of the tight corset. I bet I can’t even run or anything, she’d mused. The final push had been the role play scenes. She was able to immerse herself in a world where a lowly vaishya could find herself helpless at every turn.

I didn’t know what that secret urge to submit might make her do. It was an entirely unpredicted variable that could wreak havoc with my careful plan. I’d thought she was shy and timid, that I’d always have to be the one to push her. But all these men had to do was to give her just a hint of that feeling of helplessness and the old Nandini was gone. Lost in her arousal, what might she agree to? Would she go too far?

I started to run after the horse, but quickly fell behind. I could feel the fear taking over as my wife disappeared into the distance with a stranger. Stop! I wanted to yell. Stop! She’s not yours!

Something the raja had said had been bothering me and, as I ran, it finally clicked home. You’re the adventurous type, he’d said. As if he already knew her...or knew of her.

Legs aching, chest burning, I tried to run faster.