26-02-2025, 10:29 AM
Her eyes fly open when she feels a shift in the air beside her. She turns to see Birju, his hand moving rhythmically up and down his hard cock. The sight of him like this, watching and participating in her degradation, sends a fresh wave of horror crashing over her. "Birju?" She screams, her voice shaking.
He flinches at the sound of her voice, his eyes snapping to hers. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He just stands there, his hand frozen on his dick, his face a mask of guilt and arousal.
Garima's eyes are wide with shock and betrayal. She had hoped, in some small part of her, that Birju wouldn't go through with it. That he'd be the one to save her from this hell. But he's just as much a part of it as Pratap is.
Pratap laughs cruelly, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "What can be done, Garima?" He repeats her words, mocking her. "You were moaning like a 50-rupee randi.
Garima's face burns with humiliation as the words hit her like a slap. Her body is still trembling from the force of her own orgasm, one she hadn't wanted but couldn't control.
"Look, you enjoyed it," Pratap sneers, his eyes dark with victory. "Admit it, Garima. You liked it. You're just as much of a whore as any of the other girls I fuck."
Garima's cheeks burn with humiliation as she turns away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the truth in her eyes. But deep down, she knows he's right. Her body had responded to him, had climaxed around his cock despite her mind's protests.
Pratap laughs, a deep, dark sound that sends a chill down her spine. "Look at her," he says to Birju, gesturing to her trembling form. "Can't even admit she enjoyed it. What a fucking tease."
Garima's eyes fill with tears as she feels a fresh wave of disgust wash over her. He was right; she had enjoyed it, despite herself. The pleasure had been unwanted, a traitorous betrayal of her own will, but it was there, undeniable. She can still feel the echo of her climax, a pulsing ache deep within her that made her hate herself even more.
Pratap's smug expression only serves to fuel her anger. He knew he had won this round, had proven his dominance over her body and her mind. He had taken something from her that could never be given back, no matter how much she might want to deny it.
Pratap watched Gauri trying to process what happened . deep down, he knew that if she complained to Gauri's father, he is a dead man so his aim was to make her feel guilty for enjoying the sex. He knew that guilt would keep her mouth shut.
"You know, Garima," Pratap began, his voice smooth and taunting, "You can't blame Birju for getting hard watching you. It's only natural. Any man would want to see you like this." He gestured to her sprawled out on the bed, her legs still trembling from the force of her orgasm.
Birju's eyes darted between them, his hand still hovering over his now-softening erection. The guilt was clear on his face, but he said nothing, allowing Pratap to continue his twisted narrative. "And you, bringing him here instead of going to the marriage function," Pratap went on, his words a knife twisting in her gut. "You practically begged for this, didn't you?"
Garima's mind raced. Had she? The events of the evening were a blur, muddied by fear and the overpowering effects of whatever they had given her. But she knew deep down that she had been tricked, that this wasn't what she had wanted. "No," she whispered, her voice shaking. "That's not true."
"Oh, but it is," Pratap said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You're the one who brought him here. You're the one who wanted to have fun, to be with him instead of going to the wedding. And now look at you, begging for more."
Garima's thoughts spun out of control. Was it true? Had she led herself into this situation? The haze from the aphrodisiac made it difficult to remember clearly. But she knew one thing for sure - she had never wanted this. "No," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "That's not what happened."
Pratap chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's all a bit fuzzy, isn't it?" He leaned in close, his breath reeking of alcohol and sweat. "But you know deep down that you wanted this, Garima. You're just too proud to admit it.You're just like all the other city girls, aren't you?"
Birju shifted uncomfortably, his hand slowly moving away from his cock. The guilt was etched on his face like a deep scar, but he remained silent, not daring to interrupt Pratap's twisted narrative.
"You think you're so much better than us," Pratap went on, his voice a sneer. "But look at you now. You're no better than the whores we fuck in the village."
Garima felt a coldness spread through her veins, his words striking a chord deep within her. The guilt he was trying to force on her was a heavy burden, one that made her doubt herself. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the evening's events, but everything was a blur. Had she really brought Birju here? Was she to blame for what had happened?
Pratap watched her closely, his expression one of smug satisfaction. He knew the aphrodisiac was playing with her thoughts, making her doubt her own memories. It was all a part of the game, a twisted power play that he reveled in. "You're just a slut who wanted a taste of something wild," he whispered, his voice like a serpent in the dark. "And now you've had it."
He turned to Birju, who was still standing there, his hand hovering over his cock, looking lost and conflicted. "Look at him," Pratap said, his voice a taunt. "You've made him hard with your mouth. It's only fair that you take care of that, isn't it?"
Garima's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was suggesting. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't." But Pratap's grip on her chin was firm, forcing her to look into his cold, calculating eyes.
"It's only fair, Garima," he said, his voice like a snake's hiss. "You gave him a taste, now you have to finish what you started." He released her, turning to Birju. "Isn't that right?"
Birju looked at her, his face a battleground of desire and guilt. He knew he should stop this, should never have let it go this far. But his cock was still hard, and the sight of her, sprawled out on the bed, was too much to resist. He nodded, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Yeah, it's only right."
Garima felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Please," she begged, her voice cracking. "I can't do this." But Pratap was already pushing her head down, his hand on the back of her neck, guiding her to Birju's waiting erection. She didn't have the strength to fight back, her body still trembling from the abuse it had just endured.
Birju's cock was hot and heavy in her hand, his eyes searching hers for a sign of consent or protest. But all she could do was look away, the weight of the situation too much to bear. Pratap's words echoed in her mind - it's your duty. And in that moment, she felt like she had no choice but to comply.
With a deep breath, she leaned in and took Birju's cock in her mouth, her mind screaming at her to stop. But her body was a traitor, moving of its own accord as she began to suck him off, her tongue flicking against the sensitive underside. He groaned, his eyes closing as he gave in to the sensation.
The taste of Pratap's cum was still in her mouth, mingling with the bitter taste of her own tears. She hated herself for this, for allowing them to use her like this. But she couldn't stop, not when Pratap was watching with such a smug expression, not when Birju's hand was gently guiding her head up and down.
Birju's cock grew harder and thicker in her mouth as she continued to suck him, her cheeks hollowing with each bob. She could feel the veins pulsing under her tongue, the precum leaking onto her taste buds. She didn't want this, but her body was responding, her own arousal building again despite the horror of the situation.
Pratap's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "Look at her," he said to Birju, his tone filled with malicious glee. "She's a natural. You'd think she's been sucking cock her whole life."
Garima's cheeks burned with humiliation as she heard Pratap's taunts. His words were like a slap in the face, degrading and dehumanizing her. "Wow," he continued, "I've not even seen these dhaba stop prostitutes give such a blowjob. This girl seriously has a lot of experience."
Birju's hand tightened in her hair, guiding her movements faster, his own guilt forgotten in the face of his friend's praise. He didn't want to enjoy this, but the feel of her mouth around him was too much to resist. He watched as she struggled to keep her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face.
The room was thick with the scent of sex and despair, a stark contrast to the innocence Garima had brought with her from the city. Pratap's words echoed in her mind, making her feel like a whore, a slut. But she couldn't stop, not when Birju's cock was in her mouth, not when Pratap's eyes were on her, watching her every move with a predatory gaze.
Pratap's cock was already growing hard again, his desire for her not satiated. He licked his lips, his eyes glued to the sight of Garima's mouth moving up and down Birju's shaft. The power he had over her, the way she was now a mere puppet to their whims, only fueled his lust. He could see the fear and self-loathing in her eyes, but he didn't care. He was going to have her again.
He stepped closer, his erection bobbing with each step. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself, Garima," he said, his voice a dark purr. "But don't get too comfortable, we're not done with you yet."
He flinches at the sound of her voice, his eyes snapping to hers. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He just stands there, his hand frozen on his dick, his face a mask of guilt and arousal.
Garima's eyes are wide with shock and betrayal. She had hoped, in some small part of her, that Birju wouldn't go through with it. That he'd be the one to save her from this hell. But he's just as much a part of it as Pratap is.
Pratap laughs cruelly, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "What can be done, Garima?" He repeats her words, mocking her. "You were moaning like a 50-rupee randi.
Garima's face burns with humiliation as the words hit her like a slap. Her body is still trembling from the force of her own orgasm, one she hadn't wanted but couldn't control.
"Look, you enjoyed it," Pratap sneers, his eyes dark with victory. "Admit it, Garima. You liked it. You're just as much of a whore as any of the other girls I fuck."
Garima's cheeks burn with humiliation as she turns away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing the truth in her eyes. But deep down, she knows he's right. Her body had responded to him, had climaxed around his cock despite her mind's protests.
Pratap laughs, a deep, dark sound that sends a chill down her spine. "Look at her," he says to Birju, gesturing to her trembling form. "Can't even admit she enjoyed it. What a fucking tease."
Garima's eyes fill with tears as she feels a fresh wave of disgust wash over her. He was right; she had enjoyed it, despite herself. The pleasure had been unwanted, a traitorous betrayal of her own will, but it was there, undeniable. She can still feel the echo of her climax, a pulsing ache deep within her that made her hate herself even more.
Pratap's smug expression only serves to fuel her anger. He knew he had won this round, had proven his dominance over her body and her mind. He had taken something from her that could never be given back, no matter how much she might want to deny it.
Pratap watched Gauri trying to process what happened . deep down, he knew that if she complained to Gauri's father, he is a dead man so his aim was to make her feel guilty for enjoying the sex. He knew that guilt would keep her mouth shut.
"You know, Garima," Pratap began, his voice smooth and taunting, "You can't blame Birju for getting hard watching you. It's only natural. Any man would want to see you like this." He gestured to her sprawled out on the bed, her legs still trembling from the force of her orgasm.
Birju's eyes darted between them, his hand still hovering over his now-softening erection. The guilt was clear on his face, but he said nothing, allowing Pratap to continue his twisted narrative. "And you, bringing him here instead of going to the marriage function," Pratap went on, his words a knife twisting in her gut. "You practically begged for this, didn't you?"
Garima's mind raced. Had she? The events of the evening were a blur, muddied by fear and the overpowering effects of whatever they had given her. But she knew deep down that she had been tricked, that this wasn't what she had wanted. "No," she whispered, her voice shaking. "That's not true."
"Oh, but it is," Pratap said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You're the one who brought him here. You're the one who wanted to have fun, to be with him instead of going to the wedding. And now look at you, begging for more."
Garima's thoughts spun out of control. Was it true? Had she led herself into this situation? The haze from the aphrodisiac made it difficult to remember clearly. But she knew one thing for sure - she had never wanted this. "No," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "That's not what happened."
Pratap chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's all a bit fuzzy, isn't it?" He leaned in close, his breath reeking of alcohol and sweat. "But you know deep down that you wanted this, Garima. You're just too proud to admit it.You're just like all the other city girls, aren't you?"
Birju shifted uncomfortably, his hand slowly moving away from his cock. The guilt was etched on his face like a deep scar, but he remained silent, not daring to interrupt Pratap's twisted narrative.
"You think you're so much better than us," Pratap went on, his voice a sneer. "But look at you now. You're no better than the whores we fuck in the village."
Garima felt a coldness spread through her veins, his words striking a chord deep within her. The guilt he was trying to force on her was a heavy burden, one that made her doubt herself. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the evening's events, but everything was a blur. Had she really brought Birju here? Was she to blame for what had happened?
Pratap watched her closely, his expression one of smug satisfaction. He knew the aphrodisiac was playing with her thoughts, making her doubt her own memories. It was all a part of the game, a twisted power play that he reveled in. "You're just a slut who wanted a taste of something wild," he whispered, his voice like a serpent in the dark. "And now you've had it."
He turned to Birju, who was still standing there, his hand hovering over his cock, looking lost and conflicted. "Look at him," Pratap said, his voice a taunt. "You've made him hard with your mouth. It's only fair that you take care of that, isn't it?"
Garima's eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was suggesting. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't." But Pratap's grip on her chin was firm, forcing her to look into his cold, calculating eyes.
"It's only fair, Garima," he said, his voice like a snake's hiss. "You gave him a taste, now you have to finish what you started." He released her, turning to Birju. "Isn't that right?"
Birju looked at her, his face a battleground of desire and guilt. He knew he should stop this, should never have let it go this far. But his cock was still hard, and the sight of her, sprawled out on the bed, was too much to resist. He nodded, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Yeah, it's only right."
Garima felt a tear slip down her cheek. "Please," she begged, her voice cracking. "I can't do this." But Pratap was already pushing her head down, his hand on the back of her neck, guiding her to Birju's waiting erection. She didn't have the strength to fight back, her body still trembling from the abuse it had just endured.
Birju's cock was hot and heavy in her hand, his eyes searching hers for a sign of consent or protest. But all she could do was look away, the weight of the situation too much to bear. Pratap's words echoed in her mind - it's your duty. And in that moment, she felt like she had no choice but to comply.
With a deep breath, she leaned in and took Birju's cock in her mouth, her mind screaming at her to stop. But her body was a traitor, moving of its own accord as she began to suck him off, her tongue flicking against the sensitive underside. He groaned, his eyes closing as he gave in to the sensation.
The taste of Pratap's cum was still in her mouth, mingling with the bitter taste of her own tears. She hated herself for this, for allowing them to use her like this. But she couldn't stop, not when Pratap was watching with such a smug expression, not when Birju's hand was gently guiding her head up and down.
Birju's cock grew harder and thicker in her mouth as she continued to suck him, her cheeks hollowing with each bob. She could feel the veins pulsing under her tongue, the precum leaking onto her taste buds. She didn't want this, but her body was responding, her own arousal building again despite the horror of the situation.
Pratap's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. "Look at her," he said to Birju, his tone filled with malicious glee. "She's a natural. You'd think she's been sucking cock her whole life."
Garima's cheeks burned with humiliation as she heard Pratap's taunts. His words were like a slap in the face, degrading and dehumanizing her. "Wow," he continued, "I've not even seen these dhaba stop prostitutes give such a blowjob. This girl seriously has a lot of experience."
Birju's hand tightened in her hair, guiding her movements faster, his own guilt forgotten in the face of his friend's praise. He didn't want to enjoy this, but the feel of her mouth around him was too much to resist. He watched as she struggled to keep her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face.
The room was thick with the scent of sex and despair, a stark contrast to the innocence Garima had brought with her from the city. Pratap's words echoed in her mind, making her feel like a whore, a slut. But she couldn't stop, not when Birju's cock was in her mouth, not when Pratap's eyes were on her, watching her every move with a predatory gaze.
Pratap's cock was already growing hard again, his desire for her not satiated. He licked his lips, his eyes glued to the sight of Garima's mouth moving up and down Birju's shaft. The power he had over her, the way she was now a mere puppet to their whims, only fueled his lust. He could see the fear and self-loathing in her eyes, but he didn't care. He was going to have her again.
He stepped closer, his erection bobbing with each step. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself, Garima," he said, his voice a dark purr. "But don't get too comfortable, we're not done with you yet."
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