Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Swati feels weightless as Prakash lifts her, almost it seems without effort. 

She can feel his bone-hard cock in her ass and that it is, in fact, one of the points she is held up by other that his hands. 

He sets her down on the conference table. She can tell by the cold hard surface she can feel under her fleshy ass. 

She still cannot see anything, and all her sounds and words are distorted by the ball gag in her mouth. In her mind’s eye, she can see her saliva dripping all over the gag, her mouth, her chin and even her upper chest, all wet and slimy. 


He is pushing in and pulling out with the regularity of a metronome, and the feelings the movement is causing are electric, her nerves buzzing, the tingling in her pussy building, intensifying to a tremendous crescendo.

She hears a squeak, then wet, mewling sounds and realizes they are coming from her. 

Incredibly, she is getting off on this treatment. 

She, a successful, corporate woman, a career woman, educated, smart, intelligent, and she’s no more than a whore for this crass, uneducated lout. 

And the thing is, she can’t get enough of this!

His cock hasn’t left her asshole even for a second from the moment it went in. Initially, it hurt; hurt like hell in fact, despite the lube—she knows what lube this is—it came free with her pink dildo, a water-based gel-like lubricant that she used only once, but is seems to work. It was cold, ice-cold as it went in, and she could feel Prakash’s fingers as they slowly went in and out, dilating her orifice, her ass, for the reaming he has planned for her. 

The savage way he later inserts his cock tells her he has been planning this for a while. Perhaps he has dreamed of this. 

Perhaps the lower class people use ass-fucking as a family planning device. Who the fuck knows?

The first few strokes, were brutal, she felt a tearing pain, and she worried if he was causing some kind of permanent damage. The pain was almost as bad as the childbirth pain she had when Dhruv was born. 

Then, quickly, very quickly, it started feeling neutral as she relaxed with the smoothness of the motion. 

It was nothing much at all, just a stretching of the tissues, like taking a large dump. 

And then, to her great surprise, she started liking it. It wasn’t like vaginal fucking, it was very different. The sensations were felt in a different place for one thing, but also deep, in her belly and…she finds it hard to think as her body launches into what she thinks is an orgasm, but not something like she has ever experienced before. 

It’s in the wrong place, but it ripples out of her ass, and consumes her pelvis and travels all the way into her stomach.

Her nipples feel tight, rigid and sensitive as all hell as Prakash drives into her ass like a maniac. She shudders and shivers as the orgasm washes over her. 

Not orgasm, she corrects herself, it’s an assgasm! Her first. 

It feels great! No, it feels more than great. It feels divine. The roughness of his fucking pushes her over the edge again, and before she can catch her breath, he lifts her up like she weighs nothing, is nothing and puts her on the table. 

He pistons in powerfully several times and then pulls out altogether. A loud fart escapes her, a real fart this time unlike the vaginal queef last time. 

She knows she is screaming at the top of her lungs but the ball gag effectively muffles the sound to a low wail. She feels empty, desolate. She is aware he hasn’t come and hopes this is not all, there is more.

And there is more.

Prakash pushes her forward and scoots up on the table, still straddling her body, and raises her into his lap. She sinks down, and his erect cock finds her asshole and sinks in with no trouble at all, and she sighs in contentment. To think she had resisted giving up her ass cherry! 

This is fantastic. 

She mewls and grunts as he fucks up into her ass. He hooks her legs under her knees and she feels herself spread apart as though for inspection. She feels like she is being displayed, perhaps in some medieval bazaar for purchase as a sex slave. 

Here sir, see all her holes, she can imagine the salesman saying. All fresh and very elastic. Here, see how she takes cock in her ass? And look here at the cunt—all cleanly shaven except for the tasteful arrow down the front. You won’t be disappointed sir, only 40,000 dirhams, sir. 

She wonders for a second where the number of 40,000 dirhams has come from, but she is distracted as Prakash pulls her knees up until they are almost level with her head. 

And still he fucks on, determinedly, like an automaton. 
His hands slide through and suddenly it is his elbows under her knees, not his hands, and his hands are on her tits, squeezing, molding, and pulling at the nipples. The pain is unbearable, and yet the pleasure is unbearable too. 

She cries out, and her whole body shudders in orgasm again and again and again. Her pussy squirts, almost in sympathy with the ravaging its neighboring hole is getting.

Prakash’s breathing is ragged, and he is out of breath. 

So is she. 

Did he come? 

Swati has no idea. She has been entirely focused on her own self. 

Deprived of sight, she has focused on sensations alone.  And they have mostly been in the lower half of her body, her pelvis to be exact. It seems to her that despite the fact that Prakash has barely touched her pussy, she has been lubricating furiously, and she can feel her cunt justices running back down her fleshy thighs and mingling with the lube around her ass. 

It has all probably been churned to a foam by now, she thinks.

For a moment, she reflects on her position. She is bent almost in half by the way he has positioned her, her tits are probably bulging out obscenely from between her thighs, and her ass and pussy are open like the India Gate. 

Here sire, this way sir, it's open season! Enter at will! 

They rest a moment like that, Prakash still deep in her ass, his hands now cupping her tits rather than squeezing the life out of them, and they both breathe in lungfuls of air as they try to catch their breaths. 

The orgasm is fading, but the tingle in her nether region remains, just below the surface, like a welcome and friendly monster barely concealed by the water, ready to rise and crest again with the most minimal provocation. 

She can feel her pussy twitch in response. He nipples tingle, her whole body is alive and yearning for more. 

She senses movement behind her, Prakash stirring, his breath now steadier and his hands off her boobs. She savors the brief respite because she knows it will be brief. 

His cock, his ramrod staff is still rampant in her ass, and he hasn’t come. 

She doesn’t know that for sure because she might have missed it, but she doesn’t think he would still be that hard after coming. And so, there will be more. 

Prakash is pulling at her pussy lips, pulling them out and apart, and she can only imagine what it looks like to the cameras. Ass plugged by a dark brown cock, and pussy gaping, pulled apart by the lips, the deepest, inner ridged walls of her vagina visible for all to see. 

Then she is surprised as there is something cold and hard at the other hole, pushing, pushing, pushing, parting the lips and entering inside. 

Her cunt is tight because of his cock in her ass. 

There is, after all, only so much space there, and the tissue must dilate slowly to allow intruders like the ones Prakash is introducing there. 

For a wild moment she thinks it is Ramesh, finally putting his cock in her, finally fucking her, but it is too cold, too hard to be a human cock.


She realizes that Ramesh has raided her file cabinet, and this is one of her dildos, probably the pink one that Ramesh was so fascinated with.