Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

“Hello baby! We just got back from our trip, but Daddy has to go because dadu is sick.”


“But mo-om!”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll come get you as soon as I can, maybe tomorrow. Aren’t you having fun with Nanu and Nani?”

“Oh yes, Nanu took me to see this really cool movie yesterday and tomorrow were going to the zoo. There are all kinds of animals there, like lions and tigers and deer…and, and…dinosaurs. So, it will be fun.” 

Dhruv proceeds to make animal noises that are supposed to be different animals talking to each other with snarls and roars, and to Swati they all sound the same. She doesn’t tell him that of course. 

They talk for a few more minutes, and then hangs up. 

Then she texts Parvati to see if she can come by in the evening to cook something. Perhaps they could eat together since no one else is home. She has started taking more notice of the rest of society, the ones she had previously ignored. Not that she was vain or anything, just the way things happened in her life. The very thought she is having of eating a meal with her maid is sign of progress. She wonders what’s next. Perhaps taking out candle light vigils or marching in processions asking for equal pay for equal work? 

A pizza. Suddenly, she has a craving for pizza. All the heavy Indian food she has had for the last few days have left her with a craving for pizza. A nice, thin crust, chicken and veggie pizza. She pulls up the app and orders. She puts in the time of delivery at 6:30 in the evening, just about when she feels she will want to eat dinner. But what about Parvati and the food she will cook? 

She shakes her head. Parvati can eat pizza with her, and maybe have a drink too. What a scene, she thinks, her maid and her, sitting together, splitting a pizza and having a drink. What would they talk about?

She giggles to herself and plans the rest of her day. Ashok disappeared almost as soon as they had reached home. The worry on his face was obvious. She too is worried about he father-in-law, but then he is an old man. The story is that he was had a cold and cough, and more recently difficulty breathing. He is in the hospital and they are planning to put in a breathing tube. 

As she puts the phone in its charging cradle, she sees a brief pop-up message that disappears almost instantly. Unless one knows the app and where to find it on the phone, it is very secure. Ashok surely cannot figure it out. It is something she has shown Prakash when he insisted she communicate with him by cell phone. 

She knows Prakash has sent her something, but she is tired and even though it is not yet noon, she feels the need to take a nap. A long nap. She will make an omelet, the quickest thing she can make and sleep. Later she can see what Prakash wants. Not that it will be a mystery, but surely he can wait. Plus, her organs need some time to rest and recover too. There has been way too much action going on lately.

It has been a week almost since she has seen Prakash and the distance has given her a little bit of what? Courage? Something. SHe doesnt feel quite as scared of him or subservient. It is more like he's a playmate, maybe a little aggressive, but a playmate nevertheless.

Swati wakes up after a long and much needed nap and rubs at her eyes. The clock on her bedside table reads five in the afternoon. She has slept for three hours. God, she needed that rest. She feels sluggish, but it is the sluggishness that comes from an afternoon nap. A cup of tea will fix that. 

Maybe a quick bath. Bath or shower, she wonders. She settles on a bath. There is the familiar tingle in her nether regions, a feeling she has been having with increasing frequency these days. It is like an itch she cannot scratch and intense fucking is the only thing that settles the feeling. That too for a while. It always return, regardless of what she is doing. A bath, perhaps with a toy or two, she decides, might be exactly what the doctor ordered. For a brief moment she flashes on the doctor, the one she went to see for her “bruises.”

The good doctor has been texting her since that first appointment where she had to blow him. He’s had her tested for the common sexually transmitted diseases and she has come out clean. So far. He wants her to call him Appu, not Arvind or Dr Grover. The name is a hangover from tha Asian games mascot around the time he was born. He suggests they do some role play, perhaps a doctor-patient type scenario? All this on WhatsApp, with its end-to-end encryption. Not much good if her phone should fall into the wrong hands though. You didn’t need to be an IT person for that. 

Swati has so far not responded to him, wondering at his lack of imagination even for a role-play situation, but thinking of him has made her a little extra horny. Perhaps in the next week when there is not very much to do, maybe a tryst with him might be fun. At least a diversion. She would have to look reluctant of course, being blackmailed and all. 

In the last few months, Swati has become quite the consummate actress. Well, maybe not consummate, but she can ham it up with the best of them. Playing a sex slave, a slut wanting nothing more than a stiff cock, or a patient in distress, all come naturally to her. 

She hasn’t seen her friend Neetu in a while. She has been updated on the fucking in the office, but not that there is a new guy in the mix. She thinks it is still Ramesh that is fucking her, and Swati hasn’t clarified the situation to her. Not even the new participants in the game—Inder and Ganesh, and who knows who else Prakash will bring into the mix. She owes Neetu an update, but perhaps the truth might be too raunchy even for for adventurous friend? 

She thinks about it while she sends a “hey” emoji to Neetu. There is no reply. Perhaps she is tied up, she thinks. Haha.Neetu has a predilection for BDSM, and being tied up is one of her favorite things. Sex things that is. 

She hasn’t opened the secret app and heard Prakash’s message yet. After her bath, she thinks. 

She brews herself a cup of tea while the bathtub fills with warm water, just the temperature she likes. She sets out her two current favorite toys and lays them out on the ledge of the tub—a large black dildo and the pink small one that had so fascinated Ramesh, and later Prakash. She plans to do a little double penetration of her own, one in which she has all the control. 

She reflects on this a little. In the last few years, every time she has masturbated, it has been using video clips of gang bangs, invariably ones where the woman, usually a busty one like herself, is being fucked by at least three, if not more, men. Her favorite position is reverse cowgirl where the girl can be seen spread open and ready and completely vulnerable. She wonders why she hasn’t insisted on more double penetration in the last few months when she has had access to more cock that she has ever gotten before. 

In reality, Baldev and Pravin are the only ones that have done a true DP on her. 

Perhaps she can convince Prakash? She thinks about it and dismisses it. Prakash is probably too homophobic for that kind of thing. The closest he has been to another dick was when Ganesh was in her cunt and he in her mouth. Perhaps Prakash just didn’t know that such a thing could be done? Was that possible? She might be the one to teach him new tricks, she thinks.

When the tea is ready, she carries it in one of the travel mugs that keep it warm and undresses. She catches sight of herself in the mirror and sees not a single mark, not one bruise on her body. Those guys were really nice, good sex, but the raunchiness, the cheapness, the intensity she craved was missing. It wasn’t like she was a nymphomaniac, well, maybe just a little bit, but what she really craves is the rough treatment from Prakash, and probably other people like him. 

She has had time to reflect, and it seems to her that Baldev was right. The class divide is an especial turn on for her. There is risk and danger in that, she knows, but she is in too deep, and isn’t sure she wants to put an end to it. Not yet anyway. It doesn’t occur to her that she might not be able to end it even if she wants to. 

She wonders if Prakash would ever do more than fuck her in the office. Would he ever get up the guts to just carry her off to his place—she imagines a shack, perhaps made of waste planks and pallet wood and plastic corrugated sheets with nothing more than a basic cot on the dirt floor. A thin cotton mattress and a thinner pillow, stinking of his sweat, and probably semen. There might not even be a proper door, maybe just a sheet of plastic over the door frame. She has seen such things in movies. 

She has never seen the reality of Bhim colony. There, in his small hovel, Prakash would tie her up, perhaps to the bed with her legs spread wide open and tied behind her head, both her holes available to all and sundry. Perhaps he would hang her from a beam in the ceiling, legs held or tied akimbo, and fuck her senseless. Perhaps his friends would come in too and partake. 

A regular train of men, one after the other. All fucking her one after the other as she takes then doggy style, in the ass, in the cunt, sucking them back to hardiness as they flag. The vision of this scene sends an uncontrollable frisson of excitement through her, like an electric current she is powerless to control, and her pussy dampens. 

She shakes her head, steps into the tub, and adjusts her toys. The beauty was these worked even under water, even if they were completely submerged. In fact, they were designed to work underwater, in situations where they were fully engulfed by hot, moist flesh. 

And so, when her pink toy is safely ensconced in her asshole and buzzing merrily away and her large black dildo is pistoning in and out of her very wet pussy, she sighs and lowers herself into the warm water. Initially it is a little too hot, but she holds on, anticipating the pleasure, and slowly lowers herself. It adds one more layer to the decadent sensuousness of the situation and soon she is hip deep in the water, her hand working the dildo also under water, the jacuzzi blowing strong jets of water on her aching body, her holes stretched by two toys, and feeling very, very satisfied. 

When she is finished, she finds she had sloshed quite a bit of water over the sides in her enthusiastic masturbation session, but no matter, Parvati will be here in any minute now, and she will clean up. Worst case, she will drop a couple of towels on the mess and they will eventually dry out. It is cold outside, but inside they have heating and the temperature is a nice and toasty twenty three degrees.

She is just drying herself, paying special attention to the region between her legs—it wouldn’t do to leave it too moist because of fungal infections and so on, especially with all the action in the recent days, and the slightly rough towel feels good on her cunt lips. Also, she has just shaved again and the pubic arrow is pristine with smooth, clean edges. 

She wonders if she should change up the design. Maybe just a triangle? It is hard to get the arrow right every time, and it does take a while to do. Perhaps a simpler design. Or maybe just shave it clean altogether? What would Prakash think? What would Ramesh say? She hasn’t thought of Ramesh for a while, having accepted his weirdness about not touching her sexually.

As she sets the towel down, the doorbell rings. It is one of the new doorbells that can be programmed to play songs or any tune, but they have never bothered to do do anything with it. It just goes ding-dong. 

Swati frowns. Parvati has her own key. 

Who could this be?