How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 16
The raja sneered. Even in my hatred for him, I had to admit that he was a fine actor. His thumbs started to rub her hardened, shining nipples. “And what would a nobleman’s daughter from a fine house be doing on a ship full of daakus?”

She gasped and writhed as the pleasure coursed through her. “I—I am in love with the sardar! I left my life of luxury to be with him!”

My jaw dropped. She had an entire little fantasy world all worked out! How had I never known this?

The raja took one wet nipple between his finger and thumb. “A tale of true love. How sweet.” He closed his fingers just enough to make her gasp. “And now, you will betray your darling sardar.”

“N—Never!”

His fingers closed a little more and she groaned in pain and pleasure. He squeezed harder. Harder.

“Never!” She bucked and thrashed. My God, I thought, she’s almost coming! “NEVER!”

The raja opened his fingers and smiled. “Then I’ll sample your other charms.” He lifted himself from her body and began to haul up her lehenga.

“No!” She writhed beneath him, but this only made it easier for him to pull the lehenga from beneath her. “No, do not bare me! Don’t you dare!”

But the raja kept going. Her pale calves were exposed, then her smooth thighs…and then, as he yanked the dress up from under her ass and bundled it around her hips, we saw her smooth mons, with just the tiny strip of dark hair leading down to her pussy.

The raja laughed. “Some nobleman’s daughter! You wear no underclothes!”

My wife turned her head to the side as if mortified. “A—A handsome rogue ripped them from me at a formal dance!”

Next to me, the dancer smirked.

“A likely tale,” said the raja. “More likely you left them behind when you fled from your latest customer, having relieved him of his seed and his purse.”

The raja was working her expertly, I saw, his silver tongue helping him find his way into every little nook and cranny of her psyche. I’d never known, in all the years that I’d been with her, that she secretly wanted to be talked to like a Randi, while stnaiuously denying it. Yet he’d figured it out in the space of an afternoon.

“No!” gasped my wife. “I—I am not a Randi!”

“Really?” asked the raja. He placed his hands on her thighs and pushed her legs apart. She groaned and tried to close them again, pushing weakly against his insistamboo hands. “Let’s find out. Let us see if you moan like a Randi.” He unbuckled her weapons belt and pulled it from her, then broke the zip tie that held the dagger in its scabbard. He drew the weapon and its metal blade flashed in the moonlight.

I gave a strangled scream and tried to stand again, sure that he was going to stab her, but the lohar and dancer pulled me back down to the bench. “He’s not going to hurt her,” the dancer told me.

The raja was showing the dagger to my wife, who was staring up at it with huge eyes. As we watched, he turned it in his hand, reversing his grip so that he held the blade, and the rounded metal pommel was pointing outward.

No! I moaned silently.

“No,” said my wife, the lust in her eyes saying yes.

“Yes,” said the raja. “Let us see if you sound like a nobleman’s daughter when this touches you.” And he moved down between her spread thighs, edging the cold metal closer and closer to her waxed-smooth labia.

At the first touch, she sucked in air through her clenched teeth. The pommel was thick, heavy metal and I knew it would take some time to warm up. Against warm, sensitive flesh, flesh that was probably already wet, it must have felt like being touched by ice.

The raja began to move the rounded end of the pommel, tracing it up along the length of her lips, then down the other side. Again and again he made the circuit, stopping to rub gently against her hidden nub each time he reached the top.

My wife’s eyes closed. She bit her lip and twisted her head to one side. She made no sound, but I could see her hips beginning to move, circling a tiny amount.

“Already,” the raja said, “I can see that you were lying. Your quim moistens just like a Randi’s.”

“You—You foul creature!” my wife panted. “How dare you!”

“Let us see what it does when it’s parted by a cock made of steel,” the raja said.

“W—What? No! Don’t do that!” But she didn’t say lion, or tap out. She just lay there weakly thrashing beneath him. I noticed that he was no longer holding her bound wrists to the ground, but she still held them there firmly, as if he was.

I saw the dagger move forward and, as the moon broke through the clouds again, I could actually see her shining folds as he pushed it slowly between them. My wife let out a long, low moan as the chill metal penetrated her, her heated flesh silken-smooth around it “Ahhh!” she groaned.