18-06-2019, 04:09 PM
The idea of prostitution was sexy, the thought of fucking rank strangers and succumbing to their demands and getting paid for it inherently provocative.
He took her to see it, showed her its spreading tentacles. It was an awesome enterprise. Devoted entirely to the provision of sexual pleasure, it had grown over the years into an international colossus.
Barring only child abuse (the minimum age was fifteen, and that, too, was only for exceptional cases), slavery and torture, it pandered to every sexual need. Films, magazines, live-shows, aphrodisiacs, sexual aids, gigolos, whores -- it had them all.
Anuja was to be part of this hedonism. She was thrilled. Here was the finest sex available, on call, and she would pay handsomely for it, to boot. She agreed, and became a whore.
Always sensible and cautious, perfectly attuned to her interest, Siddharth imposed a limitation. She would service only very, very select clients, who could be counted on never to reveal her role to the outside world.
All films and magazines featuring her were for select circulation in carefully selected international sectors only. The live shows would be by invitation only. And her hours were very restricted.
All these limitations were subject to review, of course, he said, if circumstances warranted. But not for now. Anuja didn't mind. It was sound advice.
The only persons she told were Baban and Jayant and, one evening, they watched her at work. She was doing a live-show that night, with three men, for an audience of twelve. Baban and Jayant were astounded.
The performance was incredibly erotic, imaginative, esthetic and skillfully choreographed. Anuja had multiple orgasms on stage before a dozen staring eyes.
The show climaxed, literally, with all three men, heavily muscled and enormously endowed, fucking her simultaneously in cunt and mouth and ass. Baban came in his pants.
Anuja's life took on a new rhythm. Three times a week, she worked for the company, and the other afternoons she spent with Baban.
Sometimes, she spent an evening with Siddharth or one of the several handsome young men from his office or the seraglio.
The next four years were the happiest of her life. Her career was doing well, and, by any standards, she had the finest of lovers. At the seraglio, she was much in demand, her high price and relative inaccessibility only adding to her allure.
At home, she had Siddharth, his friends, magnificent lovers all, Jayant, Baban and the other servants.
Blissfully ignorant of her abditory life, her parents tried frantically to get her married. By Indian standards, she was already too old, at twenty-nine. Her parents searched incessantly for a suitable match.
She was introduced her to a never-ending stream of young men. Anuja rejected all her suitors: None of them attracted her in the least.
Then her maternal aunt introduced her to Avinash. He was devastatingly handsome, superbly built, intelligent, suave and wealthy. He ran an electronics company that he had built up from scratch.
Already, it was one of the hottest issues in the market. He came from good, solid Maharashtrian stock.
Later, her mother, smiling, asked her what she thought. Anuja looked at Avinash and instantly wondered how good he'd be in bed. He looked at her steadily, calmly and she felt a frisson of excitement.
He was very sexy, easily the most attractive suitor she had met. Resigned to the fact that she could not oppose her parents much longer, and since Siddharth was already married, she decided that if she had to get married, it might as well be someone like Avinash. Instead of her usual we'll-see response, Anuja smiled warmly and accepted.
Her mother was ecstatic and promptly conveyed her acceptance. They were to be married two months later.
Anuja dreaded the loss of the liberty it portended. Siddharth took her in his arms one evening as they lay together after sex. He told her not to worry. One never can tell, he said, life is full of imponderables.
Wait and see. Finish the work in hand. Anuja was tense and he soothed her, and, in his unique fashion, gently aroused her with delicate caresses of his lips and tongue and fingers. Soon, she was trembling and whimpering eagerly, begging to be fucked.
He fucked her slowly and she gasped in joy as his enormous penis slid into her flesh.
Anuja completed her assignments at Hedon & Venery a fortnight before the wedding, when they shot the last footage of a steamy pornographic movie about a young girl's progression from innocent teenager to accomplished whore.
Anuja played the lead role, and, in a two hour epic, was fucked in eighteen separate encounters by a dozen men and three women; lesbian sex was one of the many things Hedon & Venery had taught her to enjoy.
The film ended in a wild orgy, with Anuja being fucked hard by a series of men who mounted her in a bewildering variety of positions, plundering her every orifice, taking her singly, in pairs, in trios and even four at a time.
The last shot was a lingering fade of Anuja lying naked on the floor of a deserted living room, her body coated in the spunk of a dozen men, masturbating dreamily with a large dildo, even as the doorbell sounded.
The film was a sizzler, and Anuja got a standing ovation as she walked off the set.
In her dressing-room, in the traditions of Hedon & Venery, Anuja entertained three or four spot-boys and lower-echelon film crew. They were hot, randy youths, massively turned on by her film and fantasising about being studs themselves someday.
Fucking the lead star was a chance to live out their fantasies. Anuja knew that many of their kind had risen, in just this way, to become leading studs in major productions; one, Hari, Neha's husband, had even risen to a managerial position.
In this organisation, if you had the talent and the required mind-set, there were no limits.
The boys took turns fucking her, and Anuja noticed one who was particularly good. He took her from behind first, after she had sucked his cock, and his penis was enormous.
He fucked her slowly and steadily at first and then, goaded by her response, harder and harder, till he was ramming and reaming in and out of her like a dervish. Excited by him, she made him fuck her ass, mewing with pleasure as his enormous penis sizzled into her rear channel.
When he came in her asshole, she decided to recommend him for promotion.
The wedding date neared, and Anuja's excitement grew. Avinash seemed to be almost everything she wanted in a husband. Almost, but not quite. Only Siddharth had that privilege.
She knew she always had him whenever she wanted; Avinash was a good second-choice.
She felt sorry for Baban. After all these years, he was a close friend, a trusted companion, a cherished lover. She would have to move to Avinash's house and perhaps would never see Baban again.
He would be lonely without her. These past years had been full of happiness chiefly because of him, and he had devoted himself to her without question or reserve.
The afternoon before the wedding, she stole away to the seraglio with him and, in a private room, they fucked for several hours, exulting in the joy of each other's body, driven by exhilaration and a sharp hunger born of their impending separation.
He fucked her again and again, in her mouth and cunt and ass, changing positions repeatedly. Anuja gasped and cried out, thrashing with him, her body bucking and lurching, her face a vision of raw lust.
Finally, flinging her on her back, he rammed his cock savagely into her and fucked her brutally, making her gasp and cry out sharply. Her face twisted and contorted and he gasped, slamming his hips back and forth, making her arch steeply under him.
He thrust his cock into her repeatedly till he could hold back no longer. He came violently, spewing thick jizz into her cunt.
They lay together in silence for a long while, their bodies turned to one another. When it was time to leave, she pulled him back and kissed him and saw the infinite sadness in his eyes and wept in his arms, grateful for the past he had given her, apprehensive about an uncertain future.
END OF PART 5
WILL BE POSTING PART 6 MANORI BELLE
He took her to see it, showed her its spreading tentacles. It was an awesome enterprise. Devoted entirely to the provision of sexual pleasure, it had grown over the years into an international colossus.
Barring only child abuse (the minimum age was fifteen, and that, too, was only for exceptional cases), slavery and torture, it pandered to every sexual need. Films, magazines, live-shows, aphrodisiacs, sexual aids, gigolos, whores -- it had them all.
Anuja was to be part of this hedonism. She was thrilled. Here was the finest sex available, on call, and she would pay handsomely for it, to boot. She agreed, and became a whore.
Always sensible and cautious, perfectly attuned to her interest, Siddharth imposed a limitation. She would service only very, very select clients, who could be counted on never to reveal her role to the outside world.
All films and magazines featuring her were for select circulation in carefully selected international sectors only. The live shows would be by invitation only. And her hours were very restricted.
All these limitations were subject to review, of course, he said, if circumstances warranted. But not for now. Anuja didn't mind. It was sound advice.
The only persons she told were Baban and Jayant and, one evening, they watched her at work. She was doing a live-show that night, with three men, for an audience of twelve. Baban and Jayant were astounded.
The performance was incredibly erotic, imaginative, esthetic and skillfully choreographed. Anuja had multiple orgasms on stage before a dozen staring eyes.
The show climaxed, literally, with all three men, heavily muscled and enormously endowed, fucking her simultaneously in cunt and mouth and ass. Baban came in his pants.
Anuja's life took on a new rhythm. Three times a week, she worked for the company, and the other afternoons she spent with Baban.
Sometimes, she spent an evening with Siddharth or one of the several handsome young men from his office or the seraglio.
The next four years were the happiest of her life. Her career was doing well, and, by any standards, she had the finest of lovers. At the seraglio, she was much in demand, her high price and relative inaccessibility only adding to her allure.
At home, she had Siddharth, his friends, magnificent lovers all, Jayant, Baban and the other servants.
Blissfully ignorant of her abditory life, her parents tried frantically to get her married. By Indian standards, she was already too old, at twenty-nine. Her parents searched incessantly for a suitable match.
She was introduced her to a never-ending stream of young men. Anuja rejected all her suitors: None of them attracted her in the least.
Then her maternal aunt introduced her to Avinash. He was devastatingly handsome, superbly built, intelligent, suave and wealthy. He ran an electronics company that he had built up from scratch.
Already, it was one of the hottest issues in the market. He came from good, solid Maharashtrian stock.
Later, her mother, smiling, asked her what she thought. Anuja looked at Avinash and instantly wondered how good he'd be in bed. He looked at her steadily, calmly and she felt a frisson of excitement.
He was very sexy, easily the most attractive suitor she had met. Resigned to the fact that she could not oppose her parents much longer, and since Siddharth was already married, she decided that if she had to get married, it might as well be someone like Avinash. Instead of her usual we'll-see response, Anuja smiled warmly and accepted.
Her mother was ecstatic and promptly conveyed her acceptance. They were to be married two months later.
Anuja dreaded the loss of the liberty it portended. Siddharth took her in his arms one evening as they lay together after sex. He told her not to worry. One never can tell, he said, life is full of imponderables.
Wait and see. Finish the work in hand. Anuja was tense and he soothed her, and, in his unique fashion, gently aroused her with delicate caresses of his lips and tongue and fingers. Soon, she was trembling and whimpering eagerly, begging to be fucked.
He fucked her slowly and she gasped in joy as his enormous penis slid into her flesh.
Anuja completed her assignments at Hedon & Venery a fortnight before the wedding, when they shot the last footage of a steamy pornographic movie about a young girl's progression from innocent teenager to accomplished whore.
Anuja played the lead role, and, in a two hour epic, was fucked in eighteen separate encounters by a dozen men and three women; lesbian sex was one of the many things Hedon & Venery had taught her to enjoy.
The film ended in a wild orgy, with Anuja being fucked hard by a series of men who mounted her in a bewildering variety of positions, plundering her every orifice, taking her singly, in pairs, in trios and even four at a time.
The last shot was a lingering fade of Anuja lying naked on the floor of a deserted living room, her body coated in the spunk of a dozen men, masturbating dreamily with a large dildo, even as the doorbell sounded.
The film was a sizzler, and Anuja got a standing ovation as she walked off the set.
In her dressing-room, in the traditions of Hedon & Venery, Anuja entertained three or four spot-boys and lower-echelon film crew. They were hot, randy youths, massively turned on by her film and fantasising about being studs themselves someday.
Fucking the lead star was a chance to live out their fantasies. Anuja knew that many of their kind had risen, in just this way, to become leading studs in major productions; one, Hari, Neha's husband, had even risen to a managerial position.
In this organisation, if you had the talent and the required mind-set, there were no limits.
The boys took turns fucking her, and Anuja noticed one who was particularly good. He took her from behind first, after she had sucked his cock, and his penis was enormous.
He fucked her slowly and steadily at first and then, goaded by her response, harder and harder, till he was ramming and reaming in and out of her like a dervish. Excited by him, she made him fuck her ass, mewing with pleasure as his enormous penis sizzled into her rear channel.
When he came in her asshole, she decided to recommend him for promotion.
The wedding date neared, and Anuja's excitement grew. Avinash seemed to be almost everything she wanted in a husband. Almost, but not quite. Only Siddharth had that privilege.
She knew she always had him whenever she wanted; Avinash was a good second-choice.
She felt sorry for Baban. After all these years, he was a close friend, a trusted companion, a cherished lover. She would have to move to Avinash's house and perhaps would never see Baban again.
He would be lonely without her. These past years had been full of happiness chiefly because of him, and he had devoted himself to her without question or reserve.
The afternoon before the wedding, she stole away to the seraglio with him and, in a private room, they fucked for several hours, exulting in the joy of each other's body, driven by exhilaration and a sharp hunger born of their impending separation.
He fucked her again and again, in her mouth and cunt and ass, changing positions repeatedly. Anuja gasped and cried out, thrashing with him, her body bucking and lurching, her face a vision of raw lust.
Finally, flinging her on her back, he rammed his cock savagely into her and fucked her brutally, making her gasp and cry out sharply. Her face twisted and contorted and he gasped, slamming his hips back and forth, making her arch steeply under him.
He thrust his cock into her repeatedly till he could hold back no longer. He came violently, spewing thick jizz into her cunt.
They lay together in silence for a long while, their bodies turned to one another. When it was time to leave, she pulled him back and kissed him and saw the infinite sadness in his eyes and wept in his arms, grateful for the past he had given her, apprehensive about an uncertain future.
END OF PART 5
WILL BE POSTING PART 6 MANORI BELLE
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