Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Swati backs up, legs bent slightly, hands parting her fleshy buttocks, and slowly, very slowly, settles her pussy on his large, protruding member. 

She can feel the ridges of his strangely shaped cock, the girth of it stretches even her cunt. 

Mahender had sprayed some kind of astringent liquid there and she had tightened up considerably, and now this Russian gangster’s dick was proving to be a tight fit. 


“Impale yourself on my dick,” Nikolai says, comfortably leaning back in his comfortless wooden chair. 

Swati feels humiliated beyond belief by this Russian. 

Prakash briefed her before he went to get the man that he was an important man, a firangi to whom he owed money, and she should therefore be nice to him. 

This isn’t unusual; he has pimped her out a few times before, mostly to the men from the chawl, and she never thought anything of it. 

Truth be told, she was usually deep in her sexual sub-space, not caring who used her body, fucked her holes. 

In that space, in that time, she was in a sexual haze, living only for the next sensation, the next orgasm. 

But this was new. 

The man who walked into the room looked white, but there was something funny about the way he spoke. 

He spoke English, but the accent was weird. She had spoken to Russians before, clients and collaborators, and although they spoke English quite well, they had a specific kind of accent. Most of the people from the former USSR spoke with similar accents. 

This man’s accent was different. His emphasis has been on the wrong consonant more often than not and his vowels not clear enough. 

She didn’t think much more about it, mostly because she sensed a new adventure, more sex, and this time with a foreigner. 

She senses he is rich and powerful, and probably a gangster. 

She had already seen the bulge under his jacket in the back, and knew he was packing a gun, and that only added to her heady sense of impending sexual ecstasies. She sets about pleasing him as well as she can. 

Standing in the middle of the room, she had greeted him with a knee quaking orgasm, and from the way his eyes widened, she had sensed he was quite taken with her. 

Then he had walked into the room, and quite literally taken charge. 

He spoke little, but made his intentions abundantly clear. He had Mahender untie her and her arms had fallen to her sides. She was already quite tired, having had at least three double penetrations already, but the hungry wolf in her body was awake and she was raring to go. 

Nikolai, as he had introduced himself, sat down in the chair and asked her to go through a variety of moves, all designed to show off her best assets. 

The dildo in her cunt kept buzzing away all through the process. 

He hefted her tits in his hands, grunted his approval. He then tested the openings of her cunt and ass with one, then two, and finally three fingers and approved. 

He noted her obedience and alacrity to obey instructions, and turned to Prakash and complimented him on training her well. 

Most of the time he treated her like furniture, rarely speaking to her, and always referring to her as though she wasn’t even there. 

Perversely, this thrilled her like nothing else. To be treated like nothing, a commodity, no more than a sack of potatoes. 

It wasn’t exactly what he said or did. It was more his attitude toward her, a dismissive way, and she felt demeaned and cheapened. 

The chawl men were always grateful for her company, for what she did for them, and it showed in their attitude. This man was different. 

Over the next half hour, Nikolai had her insert various dildos and other devices in her cunt, her asshole, and each time he had her lick them clean afterwards. 

During the time she tried out the different devices, he would have Prakash or Nawaz whip her with the flogger or with the crop, and sometimes with the cane. Nothing severe, but there was a constant barrage of mild pain on her tits, her stomach, and sometimes even her pussy. She could see her skin turning red, but there were no welts or bleeding points. Both men were expert floggers.

He made her hold several poses, some seductive, but mostly just humiliating, although this too wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before. 

He had Mahender take his pants off, and made her lick his asshole, making her stick her tongue into it. She did it all, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. 

He hadn’t touched her other than hefting her tits in the beginning.

Swati could see the prominent bulge in his pants and wondered what was behind the layers of cloth. She didn’t have to wait too long.

He instructed her to do jumping jacks, but with the dildo stuck in her cunt on full vibration. 

It was difficult enough to keep the device in place, but she managed somehow and even started doing the jumping jacks. 

Her breasts jumped all over the place with her movements and ultimately one of them struck her full in the face. 

She had never had that happen before. Always while exercising, she wore a sport bra. She could suck her own nipples, and had done so much to the delight of her many lovers, but she’d never had her own breast hit her in the face. 

She was surprised at how heavy and meaty it was.

Nikolai had laughed at her discomfiture, a nasty, demeaning laugh, a laugh that was aimed at you and not from simple mirth but from malice. The others had remained silent. 

Somehow this felt worse to her than everyone laughing and having a good time, and she stared at the floor, red faced. 

But this was fine with her, at least judging by her body’s reaction. 

She had never felt so alive, her cunt had never tingled more. He nipples felt like they were on fire. Her whole body, despite the shame, was alive with an animation that was more than sexual. It was a release, a culmination, an apogee of sex. 

But Nikolai had moved on. 

He sat back and beckoned to the foreign looking woman who removed her dress in one swift move. What was this? Some kind of orgy?

But the woman, Ramona, only fished out Nikolai’s cock and started sucking on it like a lollipop. 

The cock was fascinating though. It was pale like the rest of him, but full of bumps and knobs, like one of the dildos on the wall. She’d used one not too long ago to satisfy the Russian. 

When the Russian’s cock was as hard as it would get, she had an eyeful of the monstrosity. The woman moved off to one side and stood with Mahender, who was pantless. He started pawing at her breasts. From the way they stood proud of her chest, she could tell they were fake, but they were beautiful nonetheless. The woman resisted, but then gave in, and even started fisting his still erect cock. 

Swati began to feel like this was some kind of test, an audition of sorts, although she had no idea what it was for. 

She started to feel uneasy. She wanted to ask Prakash what was going on, but he seemed to be in the white man’s thrall and stood to one side, saying nothing. 

She wished Paro was in the room to provide some support. 

And so, back to the present, she wiggles her hips, spreads her legs further, widening her pelvis and the cock head settles in her vulva. 

She gives a slight push, and Nikolai’s cock enters her. 

“Now fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructs. 

Obediently, she pushes back and forth. His knobby cock, she realizes is hard like plastic, like the dildos she has used. He must’ve enhanced his cock with some kind of plastic. But the feelings are pleasurable, and he stretches her pussy walls like no one, not even Nawaz, he of the orange sized cock head.

She focuses on the unique sensations the new cock in her is providing, the friction, the pressure of the enhanced cock. Someday perhaps all men might be enhanced, and provide unlimited pleasure to their women. 

She settles into a bent over position, her hands on her knees, supporting her upper torso, legs bending and straightening with every impalement. Nikolai is really doing none of the work, just sitting there and letting her fuck herself on his cock. 

She is about to come, and come big, when Prakash, coming out of nowhere, sticks his cock all the way into her throat and pinches her nose shut. 

Her mouth has been open, panting, her eyes closed, and he must not have been able to wait, to resist this opportunity.

She vaguely hears Nikolai say, “Behenchod!” His accent is typical Northern UP.

As she becomes hypoxic from being unable to breathe, her orgasm builds. 

And then she erupts like a volcano.

The orgasm flows like a tidal wave into her belly and curls her toes and she is shaking like an epileptic and if the men are saying anything, she can’t hear them.