18-03-2025, 06:11 PM
Aisha stood frozen as her father-in-law’s hands reached up, brushing over the fabric of her burqa. His fingers traced slowly along her shoulders and down her arms, a possessive touch that sent a chill through her. With deliberate slowness, he lifted the edge of her veil, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to reveal her face, layer by layer.
“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. That night… it wasn’t an accident.”
Aisha’s heart pounded painfully as his words sank in, her stomach churning with disgust. She clenched her fists, her instincts screaming at her to pull away, but she felt trapped, ensnared by his presence and the twisted arrangement they’d made. She stared at him, her silence a bitter acceptance as he continued.
“You thought it was my mistake, but I knew what I was doing,” he continued, his voice smooth, almost triumphant. “Every time I watched you, every time you moved around the house, I knew I’d find a way to make you mine. And now, here we are.”
Her jaw clenched as he spoke, every word laced with a satisfaction that sickened her. He reached down, his hands sliding over the fabric of her abaya, unfastening the buttons with practiced ease. Aisha forced herself to keep her expression neutral, her mind retreating inward as he revealed more of her, feeling exposed both physically and emotionally.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands moving over her shoulders and down her sides as he helped her slip out of her abaya. “Every inch of you is mine now.”
Aisha’s breathing was shallow, her eyes fixed on the wall, unable to look at him. She felt his fingers trailing over her skin, his touch invasive and possessive, as if he was claiming her with each movement. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but the weight of the situation held her in place.
“This is what I’ve wanted for so long, Aisha,” he murmured, leaning close, his breath warm against her ear. “You can hate me if you want, but you won’t stop me. Not until we’ve done what we set out to do.”
She bit her lip, her body tense with revulsion. But she remained silent, determined to endure, her mind focused on ending this as soon as possible.
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With slow, calculated movements, he began to undo her dress, his fingers tracing the fabric as if savoring every moment. Aisha felt the weight of his gaze, his eyes lingering on her as he uncovered her inch by inch, his words slipping out in a quiet, unsettling murmur.
“You know, Aisha, I’ve watched you for so long, wishing for a moment like this,” he whispered. “When you first joined our family, I couldn’t help but admire you. So graceful, so obedient… you were everything I wanted.”
His words felt like needles pricking at her, a twisted confession that made her skin crawl. But she kept her eyes averted, staying silent as he spoke, her heart racing with a mixture of dread and resignation.
“I knew it would only be a matter of time,” he continued, his fingers moving over her shoulders, sliding the straps of her dress down with a sense of possession. “I told myself I’d wait, that it was wrong, but every time I saw you, it was like a fire I couldn’t control.”
Aisha’s mind raced as she processed his words, a bitter realization settling within her. He’d never seen her as part of the family. He’d only seen her as something to possess, to claim. She felt trapped, each layer he removed feeling like another layer of control he was taking from her.
“Tonight, we’ll finally have what we both want,” he murmured, his hands resting on her waist. “I know you’ll try to resist, but deep down, you know this is where you’re meant to be.”
Aisha’s throat tightened, disgust welling up within her as she listened, feeling powerless. But she remained still, her mind set on ending this arrangement as soon as possible, even as his words twisted painfully in her heart.
Aisha stood there, feeling stripped of her dignity as much as her clothing, her body exposed before her father-in-law. He paused, taking her in with an appraising gaze, his eyes lingering, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face. The seconds stretched as he lowered his pants, and without hesitation, he made a demand that made her stomach twist.
“Show me how obedient you can really be,” he said, his voice laced with a dark anticipation, motioning for her to get down.
Aisha drew a steadying breath, her jaw tightening. “I told you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “we’re here to do what we need to. Nothing else.”
He rolled his eyes, his patience thinning but a look of irritation flashing across his face as he took a step closer. “Fine, if you’re going to act like you’re above all this. Just remember, you’re the one who came to me.”
As he positioned himself and began, his tone took on a sharp edge, his words slipping into degrading murmurs, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Look at you, standing here like you’re some innocent,” he scoffed, his breath warm against her skin. “You play the part well, but you know what you’re here for. You’re as desperate as any woman would be… needing something only I can give.”
Each word felt like a slap, his tone heavy with an accusation that both humiliated and angered her. But she held her ground, reminding herself of her reasons, fighting to maintain a shred of dignity as he continued, his voice lowering to a scornful whisper.
“Pretending you’re just here for a child,” he sneered, a mocking smile on his lips, “but we both know what this really makes you, don’t we?”
Aisha swallowed hard, her face set in a stoic mask as she endured, determined to ignore his words, to get through this and be done with him.
He started teasing her entrance with his thing just rubbing for a min and just inserting tip after five mins Aisha felt helpless as the time is getting late so she just asked him to do her and with sly smile father in law said he likes when she begs and asks for more. Aisha stomach churned but she did so it ends quickly
Aisha stood there, forcing herself to remain still as he continued his tormenting pace, slowly rubbing himself against her, just enough to keep her tense, drawing out the moment deliberately. She felt his control with each teasing movement, his satisfaction in holding her at his mercy. The minutes stretched unbearably, and she could feel the weight of time pressing down on her, each passing second reminding her of how close she was to being discovered, to having this awful secret exposed.
Her patience frayed, her voice unsteady as she finally broke the silence.
“Please… just finish this,” she managed, her tone strained but firm. “Do what you have to, and let’s be done.”
Her father-in-law’s mouth curled into a pleased, almost mocking smile, as though savoring every ounce of her reluctant surrender.
“Oh, Aisha,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his voice a low, smug whisper. “I knew you’d come around. I like it when you ask… when you realize what you need and aren’t too proud to beg.”
Aisha’s stomach tightened with revulsion, but she swallowed her anger, willing herself to stay focused, to end this as quickly as possible. She met his gaze with a steady, unflinching look, masking the turmoil churning inside her.
“Fine,” she whispered, barely able to hide the bitterness in her voice. “Just… do it.”
His smile deepened, pleased with her compliance, and without further delay, he finally began, taking his time with each movement, every action deliberate, as if savoring her reluctant obedience.
Aisha took a shaky breath, swallowing her pride and pushing down the bitterness that clawed at her from within. She knew what he wanted; he’d made it clear with every lingering touch, every smug glance, that he enjoyed this power, enjoyed making her ask. It was humiliating, the way he held her in this moment, demanding her submission.
She felt her cheeks burn as she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.
“Please… just… do it.”
But he wasn’t satisfied with that. He leaned closer, his tone laced with mockery, savoring her discomfort.
“Is that really the best you can do, Aisha? I know you can do better. I want to hear you beg like you mean it… like you understand exactly what you’re asking me for.”
Aisha’s stomach turned, the weight of his words sinking deep, making her feel small and exposed. She clenched her fists, her voice catching as she forced herself to say the words he wanted, hating every syllable as they left her lips.
“Please,” she whispered, barely able to look at him, “I need you… just… finish it.”
A slow smile spread across his face, a look of triumph that made her skin crawl.
“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “See? I knew you could be convincing when you tried. Maybe you’re finally realizing your place here.”
Aisha’s heart sank as he moved closer, knowing she’d given him exactly what he wanted. But she kept her eyes averted, reminding herself that this was temporary, that every moment she endured was one step closer to being free of him.
Aisha felt his movements slow as he lingered at her entrance, keeping her on edge, his hands wandering over her body, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, fingers pressing firmly. She tried to focus, to ignore the way he was touching her, but his next words stopped her cold.
"Divorce my son and marry me," he murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Think about it—he can't give you what you need, but I can."
Her heart raced, the absurdity and audacity of his words shocking her. She stared at him, momentarily speechless, unable to comprehend what he was asking. It was a twisted suggestion, one she couldn’t imagine coming from anyone, let alone her own father-in-law.
"You're just saying that," she managed to respond, her voice barely above a whisper, hoping he’d drop the idea.
He chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes as his fingers pressed against her, emphasizing his hold over her. "Maybe," he replied, his voice low, "but it could be real. Imagine how much easier it would be. No more pretending, no more sneaking around. Just us."
Aisha clenched her jaw, her mind reeling. She tried to pull away, but his hand moved over her breast, his thumb tracing her skin, a reminder of his control. She focused on her breath, steadying herself, unwilling to let him see how much his suggestion had rattled her. She didn't respond, feeling the weight of his grip on her, knowing that the more she resisted, the more he enjoyed pushing her boundaries.
Aisha’s mind spun as she stood there, realizing the only way to keep him from pressing further was to go along with his demands. Resigned, she closed her eyes and whispered the words, the weight of each one sinking deep within her.
“Talaq… talaq… talaq.”
Her voice was steady, but each word felt like a piece of her own dignity slipping away. Her father-in-law’s eyes glinted with satisfaction as he listened, his smug expression a stark reminder of his control. Without wasting a moment, he began the marriage vows, his voice low but insistent, each phrase drawing her further into the reality he’d crafted for them.
“Do you accept this union?” he asked, a twisted smile on his face.
Aisha swallowed, forcing herself to nod as she repeated the words, her voice barely audible.
“Kabul hai… kabul hai… kabul hai.”
He looked almost triumphant as he produced a small notebook, scrawling the details with swift precision. She watched, numb, as he handed her the pen to sign, the act feeling both surreal and disturbingly final. She scribbled her name, each stroke of the pen feeling like a step further down a path she’d never intended to take.
As he closed the book and tucked it away, he gave her a look of satisfaction, his hand moving over her shoulder with a possessive air.
As he pushed forward, Aisha tensed, feeling the overwhelming pressure as he pressed deeper, inch by inch. It was too much, and her body responded instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She clenched her fists, barely able to contain her discomfort as he pressed on, unrelenting, seeming to savor each moment of her helplessness.
“Please… gentle,” she managed, her voice trembling, trying to brace herself against his weight. But he ignored her plea, pushing further, determined to take everything.
His grip tightened around her waist as he continued, clearly enjoying her vulnerability. Aisha’s breathing grew ragged, each movement a struggle as she tried to keep her composure.
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As he held her firmly, his grip sinking into her sides, he leaned close, his voice low and commanding.
"A wife is like a field, Aisha," he murmured, his tone heavy with authority. "To be tended to however I see fit."
With each word, he tightened his hold, his hands pressing into her waist, grasping her as though she were his to claim, to control. Aisha’s heart raced, every fiber of her being tense, yet she felt trapped in the reality of their agreement. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, as he began a relentless rhythm, each movement forcing her to stay present, to endure.
"You’re mine now," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, his tone filled with a self-satisfied certainty.
As they shifted positions, Aisha found herself facing the wall where a framed portrait of her husband hung, a stark reminder of everything she had once hoped for in her marriage. The image looked back at her, a silent witness to the choices she’d made, the sacrifices, the bitter reality she now endured. She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep her gaze steady, though her heart ached at the sight.
Behind her, her father-in-law moved with a sense of possession, his hands gripping her firmly, his breathing heavy as he pressed on, seemingly unaware—or perhaps unbothered—by the irony of the moment.
Aisha's body responded instinctively, despite her own reluctance. Her muscles tightened around him, gripping firmly, her body betraying her mind’s resistance. She felt every movement with an intensity that left her conflicted, her emotions swirling in a mix of defiance and resignation. Her father-in-law chuckled softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
“Look at that,” he murmured, his tone a blend of mockery and approval. “Your body’s clinging to me, pulsing like it was made for this… made for me.”
Each word landed heavily, twisting the moment into something that made her feel both vulnerable and exposed. She fought to maintain her composure, trying to detach herself from his comments, but the sensations and his words felt overpowering.
Aisha’s body tensed at his words, feeling each one weigh down on her. Her father-in-law’s breathing grew ragged, his tone triumphant, filled with a twisted sense of accomplishment.
“You were made for this, Aisha,” he declared, his voice brimming with satisfaction. “Just for me… my perfect match.”
As he reached his peak, he gripped her tightly, a surge of possessive triumph in his actions.
Aisha’s mind swirled with conflicted emotions as her body instinctively responded, each movement and sensation pulling her further into a space of confusion and reluctant acceptance. She felt herself tightening around him, her body betraying her, gripping him with an intensity that left her ashamed yet unable to control it.
The realization struck her hard, a feeling of shame washing over her as she acknowledged how her body responded to his every movement. She struggled internally, trying to make sense of her own responses, knowing this wasn’t what she wanted, yet feeling trapped by the way her body seemed to betray her thoughts.
Aisha’s heart pounded, her shame intensifying as he spoke, his words laced with smug satisfaction.
"I can feel you wrapping around me, Aisha," he murmured, his voice almost taunting. "Tell me, do you like this?"
She clenched her jaw, unwilling to answer, hoping her silence would convey her refusal. But her body’s response was undeniable, and he clearly noticed, relishing the effect he had over her.
Aisha struggled to keep her composure, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness as his question lingered. She avoided his gaze, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response, hoping to maintain whatever sliver of dignity she had left.
Aisha’s breathing grew unsteady as he pressed her for an answer, each question cutting into her resolve, his voice unrelenting and insistent.
"I can feel it, Aisha. You’re holding onto me… it’s like you want this," he murmured, his tone dripping with control. "Admit it. Just tell me."
Her silence seemed to only spur him on, his words coming in waves, each one chipping away at her defenses.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The chance for a child. To finally hear the word ‘mother’ from someone who’s yours…”
The mention of motherhood stirred a pang in her, and her heart clenched. She looked away, swallowing hard, unwilling to let him see the effect those words had on her.
“You’re desperate enough, aren’t you?” he continued. “Desperate enough to do whatever it takes. Just say it, Aisha… tell me what you really want.”
The silence felt heavy between them as she grappled with the weight of her desires and the cost they’d brought her to. Her voice shook as she finally spoke, her words barely a whisper.
“I… I just want to be a mother.”
A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face, her words giving him the answer he’d wanted all along.
With one final, forceful thrust, he reached his climax, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he held her firmly. Breathing heavily, he leaned close, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
"There you go, Aisha," he murmured, his tone thick with self-assurance. "I’ve given you more than enough. This time, you’ll definitely be a mother."
Aisha’s heart raced, her emotions a tangled mess as his words settled over her. She felt the weight of what had just transpired, the lengths to which she’d gone for the chance to have a child, even if it meant enduring this twisted arrangement.
Aisha lay on the bed, alone, the quiet of the room pressing down around her. She lifted her legs, holding them close, hoping against all else that this would finally lead to the child she so deeply yearned for. But as the minutes passed, her heart remained heavy, her mind tangled in a storm of emotions that she could no longer ignore.
She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the weight of it all—the choices she’d made, the desperate hope that had pushed her this far. She wanted to be a mother, wanted it with all her soul, but at what cost? The shame and guilt twisted within her, filling her with a sense of helplessness that seemed to consume every thought.
Aisha took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she held herself steady, the silence of the room broken only by her own breaths. She thought of the family she dreamed of, the love she hoped to give a child, and she clung to that vision, letting it carry her through the doubts and regrets swirling in her mind. In that moment, all she could do was hope—hope that somehow, amidst the turmoil, she would find peace.
Aisha lay still, acutely aware of the warmth within her, each passing moment filled with a mix of relief and trepidation. She could feel his seed settling deep inside her, and despite the unsettling nature of it all, she clung to a single, fervent hope: that this would lead to the child she so deeply desired, and that it would finally put an end to this chapter of her life.
The desperation in her heart was met by a strange, reluctant peace as she allowed herself to imagine holding a child of her own. The thought brought a calm that steadied her, a fragile but real sense of purpose emerging from all she had endured. She exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting closed, whispering a silent prayer that this ordeal would soon lead to the one thing that had driven her all along: a family of her own, a new beginning where she could reclaim herself and finally find peace.
“You’re even more beautiful up close,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. That night… it wasn’t an accident.”
Aisha’s heart pounded painfully as his words sank in, her stomach churning with disgust. She clenched her fists, her instincts screaming at her to pull away, but she felt trapped, ensnared by his presence and the twisted arrangement they’d made. She stared at him, her silence a bitter acceptance as he continued.
“You thought it was my mistake, but I knew what I was doing,” he continued, his voice smooth, almost triumphant. “Every time I watched you, every time you moved around the house, I knew I’d find a way to make you mine. And now, here we are.”
Her jaw clenched as he spoke, every word laced with a satisfaction that sickened her. He reached down, his hands sliding over the fabric of her abaya, unfastening the buttons with practiced ease. Aisha forced herself to keep her expression neutral, her mind retreating inward as he revealed more of her, feeling exposed both physically and emotionally.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands moving over her shoulders and down her sides as he helped her slip out of her abaya. “Every inch of you is mine now.”
Aisha’s breathing was shallow, her eyes fixed on the wall, unable to look at him. She felt his fingers trailing over her skin, his touch invasive and possessive, as if he was claiming her with each movement. She wanted to scream, to push him away, but the weight of the situation held her in place.
“This is what I’ve wanted for so long, Aisha,” he murmured, leaning close, his breath warm against her ear. “You can hate me if you want, but you won’t stop me. Not until we’ve done what we set out to do.”
She bit her lip, her body tense with revulsion. But she remained silent, determined to endure, her mind focused on ending this as soon as possible.
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With slow, calculated movements, he began to undo her dress, his fingers tracing the fabric as if savoring every moment. Aisha felt the weight of his gaze, his eyes lingering on her as he uncovered her inch by inch, his words slipping out in a quiet, unsettling murmur.
“You know, Aisha, I’ve watched you for so long, wishing for a moment like this,” he whispered. “When you first joined our family, I couldn’t help but admire you. So graceful, so obedient… you were everything I wanted.”
His words felt like needles pricking at her, a twisted confession that made her skin crawl. But she kept her eyes averted, staying silent as he spoke, her heart racing with a mixture of dread and resignation.
“I knew it would only be a matter of time,” he continued, his fingers moving over her shoulders, sliding the straps of her dress down with a sense of possession. “I told myself I’d wait, that it was wrong, but every time I saw you, it was like a fire I couldn’t control.”
Aisha’s mind raced as she processed his words, a bitter realization settling within her. He’d never seen her as part of the family. He’d only seen her as something to possess, to claim. She felt trapped, each layer he removed feeling like another layer of control he was taking from her.
“Tonight, we’ll finally have what we both want,” he murmured, his hands resting on her waist. “I know you’ll try to resist, but deep down, you know this is where you’re meant to be.”
Aisha’s throat tightened, disgust welling up within her as she listened, feeling powerless. But she remained still, her mind set on ending this arrangement as soon as possible, even as his words twisted painfully in her heart.
Aisha stood there, feeling stripped of her dignity as much as her clothing, her body exposed before her father-in-law. He paused, taking her in with an appraising gaze, his eyes lingering, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face. The seconds stretched as he lowered his pants, and without hesitation, he made a demand that made her stomach twist.
“Show me how obedient you can really be,” he said, his voice laced with a dark anticipation, motioning for her to get down.
Aisha drew a steadying breath, her jaw tightening. “I told you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, “we’re here to do what we need to. Nothing else.”
He rolled his eyes, his patience thinning but a look of irritation flashing across his face as he took a step closer. “Fine, if you’re going to act like you’re above all this. Just remember, you’re the one who came to me.”
As he positioned himself and began, his tone took on a sharp edge, his words slipping into degrading murmurs, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Look at you, standing here like you’re some innocent,” he scoffed, his breath warm against her skin. “You play the part well, but you know what you’re here for. You’re as desperate as any woman would be… needing something only I can give.”
Each word felt like a slap, his tone heavy with an accusation that both humiliated and angered her. But she held her ground, reminding herself of her reasons, fighting to maintain a shred of dignity as he continued, his voice lowering to a scornful whisper.
“Pretending you’re just here for a child,” he sneered, a mocking smile on his lips, “but we both know what this really makes you, don’t we?”
Aisha swallowed hard, her face set in a stoic mask as she endured, determined to ignore his words, to get through this and be done with him.
He started teasing her entrance with his thing just rubbing for a min and just inserting tip after five mins Aisha felt helpless as the time is getting late so she just asked him to do her and with sly smile father in law said he likes when she begs and asks for more. Aisha stomach churned but she did so it ends quickly
Aisha stood there, forcing herself to remain still as he continued his tormenting pace, slowly rubbing himself against her, just enough to keep her tense, drawing out the moment deliberately. She felt his control with each teasing movement, his satisfaction in holding her at his mercy. The minutes stretched unbearably, and she could feel the weight of time pressing down on her, each passing second reminding her of how close she was to being discovered, to having this awful secret exposed.
Her patience frayed, her voice unsteady as she finally broke the silence.
“Please… just finish this,” she managed, her tone strained but firm. “Do what you have to, and let’s be done.”
Her father-in-law’s mouth curled into a pleased, almost mocking smile, as though savoring every ounce of her reluctant surrender.
“Oh, Aisha,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his voice a low, smug whisper. “I knew you’d come around. I like it when you ask… when you realize what you need and aren’t too proud to beg.”
Aisha’s stomach tightened with revulsion, but she swallowed her anger, willing herself to stay focused, to end this as quickly as possible. She met his gaze with a steady, unflinching look, masking the turmoil churning inside her.
“Fine,” she whispered, barely able to hide the bitterness in her voice. “Just… do it.”
His smile deepened, pleased with her compliance, and without further delay, he finally began, taking his time with each movement, every action deliberate, as if savoring her reluctant obedience.
Aisha took a shaky breath, swallowing her pride and pushing down the bitterness that clawed at her from within. She knew what he wanted; he’d made it clear with every lingering touch, every smug glance, that he enjoyed this power, enjoyed making her ask. It was humiliating, the way he held her in this moment, demanding her submission.
She felt her cheeks burn as she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.
“Please… just… do it.”
But he wasn’t satisfied with that. He leaned closer, his tone laced with mockery, savoring her discomfort.
“Is that really the best you can do, Aisha? I know you can do better. I want to hear you beg like you mean it… like you understand exactly what you’re asking me for.”
Aisha’s stomach turned, the weight of his words sinking deep, making her feel small and exposed. She clenched her fists, her voice catching as she forced herself to say the words he wanted, hating every syllable as they left her lips.
“Please,” she whispered, barely able to look at him, “I need you… just… finish it.”
A slow smile spread across his face, a look of triumph that made her skin crawl.
“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “See? I knew you could be convincing when you tried. Maybe you’re finally realizing your place here.”
Aisha’s heart sank as he moved closer, knowing she’d given him exactly what he wanted. But she kept her eyes averted, reminding herself that this was temporary, that every moment she endured was one step closer to being free of him.
Aisha felt his movements slow as he lingered at her entrance, keeping her on edge, his hands wandering over her body, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, fingers pressing firmly. She tried to focus, to ignore the way he was touching her, but his next words stopped her cold.
"Divorce my son and marry me," he murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Think about it—he can't give you what you need, but I can."
Her heart raced, the absurdity and audacity of his words shocking her. She stared at him, momentarily speechless, unable to comprehend what he was asking. It was a twisted suggestion, one she couldn’t imagine coming from anyone, let alone her own father-in-law.
"You're just saying that," she managed to respond, her voice barely above a whisper, hoping he’d drop the idea.
He chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes as his fingers pressed against her, emphasizing his hold over her. "Maybe," he replied, his voice low, "but it could be real. Imagine how much easier it would be. No more pretending, no more sneaking around. Just us."
Aisha clenched her jaw, her mind reeling. She tried to pull away, but his hand moved over her breast, his thumb tracing her skin, a reminder of his control. She focused on her breath, steadying herself, unwilling to let him see how much his suggestion had rattled her. She didn't respond, feeling the weight of his grip on her, knowing that the more she resisted, the more he enjoyed pushing her boundaries.
Aisha’s mind spun as she stood there, realizing the only way to keep him from pressing further was to go along with his demands. Resigned, she closed her eyes and whispered the words, the weight of each one sinking deep within her.
“Talaq… talaq… talaq.”
Her voice was steady, but each word felt like a piece of her own dignity slipping away. Her father-in-law’s eyes glinted with satisfaction as he listened, his smug expression a stark reminder of his control. Without wasting a moment, he began the marriage vows, his voice low but insistent, each phrase drawing her further into the reality he’d crafted for them.
“Do you accept this union?” he asked, a twisted smile on his face.
Aisha swallowed, forcing herself to nod as she repeated the words, her voice barely audible.
“Kabul hai… kabul hai… kabul hai.”
He looked almost triumphant as he produced a small notebook, scrawling the details with swift precision. She watched, numb, as he handed her the pen to sign, the act feeling both surreal and disturbingly final. She scribbled her name, each stroke of the pen feeling like a step further down a path she’d never intended to take.
As he closed the book and tucked it away, he gave her a look of satisfaction, his hand moving over her shoulder with a possessive air.
As he pushed forward, Aisha tensed, feeling the overwhelming pressure as he pressed deeper, inch by inch. It was too much, and her body responded instinctively, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She clenched her fists, barely able to contain her discomfort as he pressed on, unrelenting, seeming to savor each moment of her helplessness.
“Please… gentle,” she managed, her voice trembling, trying to brace herself against his weight. But he ignored her plea, pushing further, determined to take everything.
His grip tightened around her waist as he continued, clearly enjoying her vulnerability. Aisha’s breathing grew ragged, each movement a struggle as she tried to keep her composure.
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As he held her firmly, his grip sinking into her sides, he leaned close, his voice low and commanding.
"A wife is like a field, Aisha," he murmured, his tone heavy with authority. "To be tended to however I see fit."
With each word, he tightened his hold, his hands pressing into her waist, grasping her as though she were his to claim, to control. Aisha’s heart raced, every fiber of her being tense, yet she felt trapped in the reality of their agreement. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, as he began a relentless rhythm, each movement forcing her to stay present, to endure.
"You’re mine now," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, his tone filled with a self-satisfied certainty.
As they shifted positions, Aisha found herself facing the wall where a framed portrait of her husband hung, a stark reminder of everything she had once hoped for in her marriage. The image looked back at her, a silent witness to the choices she’d made, the sacrifices, the bitter reality she now endured. She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep her gaze steady, though her heart ached at the sight.
Behind her, her father-in-law moved with a sense of possession, his hands gripping her firmly, his breathing heavy as he pressed on, seemingly unaware—or perhaps unbothered—by the irony of the moment.
Aisha's body responded instinctively, despite her own reluctance. Her muscles tightened around him, gripping firmly, her body betraying her mind’s resistance. She felt every movement with an intensity that left her conflicted, her emotions swirling in a mix of defiance and resignation. Her father-in-law chuckled softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
“Look at that,” he murmured, his tone a blend of mockery and approval. “Your body’s clinging to me, pulsing like it was made for this… made for me.”
Each word landed heavily, twisting the moment into something that made her feel both vulnerable and exposed. She fought to maintain her composure, trying to detach herself from his comments, but the sensations and his words felt overpowering.
Aisha’s body tensed at his words, feeling each one weigh down on her. Her father-in-law’s breathing grew ragged, his tone triumphant, filled with a twisted sense of accomplishment.
“You were made for this, Aisha,” he declared, his voice brimming with satisfaction. “Just for me… my perfect match.”
As he reached his peak, he gripped her tightly, a surge of possessive triumph in his actions.
Aisha’s mind swirled with conflicted emotions as her body instinctively responded, each movement and sensation pulling her further into a space of confusion and reluctant acceptance. She felt herself tightening around him, her body betraying her, gripping him with an intensity that left her ashamed yet unable to control it.
The realization struck her hard, a feeling of shame washing over her as she acknowledged how her body responded to his every movement. She struggled internally, trying to make sense of her own responses, knowing this wasn’t what she wanted, yet feeling trapped by the way her body seemed to betray her thoughts.
Aisha’s heart pounded, her shame intensifying as he spoke, his words laced with smug satisfaction.
"I can feel you wrapping around me, Aisha," he murmured, his voice almost taunting. "Tell me, do you like this?"
She clenched her jaw, unwilling to answer, hoping her silence would convey her refusal. But her body’s response was undeniable, and he clearly noticed, relishing the effect he had over her.
Aisha struggled to keep her composure, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness as his question lingered. She avoided his gaze, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response, hoping to maintain whatever sliver of dignity she had left.
Aisha’s breathing grew unsteady as he pressed her for an answer, each question cutting into her resolve, his voice unrelenting and insistent.
"I can feel it, Aisha. You’re holding onto me… it’s like you want this," he murmured, his tone dripping with control. "Admit it. Just tell me."
Her silence seemed to only spur him on, his words coming in waves, each one chipping away at her defenses.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The chance for a child. To finally hear the word ‘mother’ from someone who’s yours…”
The mention of motherhood stirred a pang in her, and her heart clenched. She looked away, swallowing hard, unwilling to let him see the effect those words had on her.
“You’re desperate enough, aren’t you?” he continued. “Desperate enough to do whatever it takes. Just say it, Aisha… tell me what you really want.”
The silence felt heavy between them as she grappled with the weight of her desires and the cost they’d brought her to. Her voice shook as she finally spoke, her words barely a whisper.
“I… I just want to be a mother.”
A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face, her words giving him the answer he’d wanted all along.
With one final, forceful thrust, he reached his climax, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he held her firmly. Breathing heavily, he leaned close, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
"There you go, Aisha," he murmured, his tone thick with self-assurance. "I’ve given you more than enough. This time, you’ll definitely be a mother."
Aisha’s heart raced, her emotions a tangled mess as his words settled over her. She felt the weight of what had just transpired, the lengths to which she’d gone for the chance to have a child, even if it meant enduring this twisted arrangement.
Aisha lay on the bed, alone, the quiet of the room pressing down around her. She lifted her legs, holding them close, hoping against all else that this would finally lead to the child she so deeply yearned for. But as the minutes passed, her heart remained heavy, her mind tangled in a storm of emotions that she could no longer ignore.
She closed her eyes, letting herself feel the weight of it all—the choices she’d made, the desperate hope that had pushed her this far. She wanted to be a mother, wanted it with all her soul, but at what cost? The shame and guilt twisted within her, filling her with a sense of helplessness that seemed to consume every thought.
Aisha took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she held herself steady, the silence of the room broken only by her own breaths. She thought of the family she dreamed of, the love she hoped to give a child, and she clung to that vision, letting it carry her through the doubts and regrets swirling in her mind. In that moment, all she could do was hope—hope that somehow, amidst the turmoil, she would find peace.
Aisha lay still, acutely aware of the warmth within her, each passing moment filled with a mix of relief and trepidation. She could feel his seed settling deep inside her, and despite the unsettling nature of it all, she clung to a single, fervent hope: that this would lead to the child she so deeply desired, and that it would finally put an end to this chapter of her life.
The desperation in her heart was met by a strange, reluctant peace as she allowed herself to imagine holding a child of her own. The thought brought a calm that steadied her, a fragile but real sense of purpose emerging from all she had endured. She exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting closed, whispering a silent prayer that this ordeal would soon lead to the one thing that had driven her all along: a family of her own, a new beginning where she could reclaim herself and finally find peace.
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