24-06-2025, 10:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 24-06-2025, 10:24 PM by chodn_khanki. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
They all sat in the car parked outside and had momentarily vanished from sight, leaving me momentarily stunned. Then I was about to walk away from the security officer station. The senior constable beckoned me inside. My heart thundered in my chest as I moved towards him, my gaze cast downward, eyes avoiding the knowing smirk that played upon his lips. His voice was a low, seductive purr when he posed his question, "How does it feel to witness your wife, a woman whose every curve is etched into the very fabric of your soul, being treated as a prized possession?"
I stood frozen, my mind reeling with a torrent of emotions. I had expected anger and a desire for vengeance, but instead, I found myself strangely intrigued, even aroused. A wild, carnal hunger stirred deep within me, urging me to claim Chaitali, to make her mine in a way that would transcend the boundaries of societal norms.
The constable chuckled softly, sensing my turmoil. He withdrew his phone, pressing play on a video that had haunted my dreams ever since I first caught a glimpse of it hours ago. The screen flickered to life, illuminating Chaitali's lithe form as she stood at the bottom of a deserted footbridge, her body glistening under the broad daylight. A collar adorned her delicate neck, and a leash attached to it trailed behind her as she obeyed the unseen commands of her master. Her eyes were wide with submission, her hips swaying seductively as she executed each command. She was nude, every inch of her flawless skin exposed to the elements, yet she carried herself with a grace that only Chaitali could possess. Her ears were ringed with tiny silver bells, and her collar had been engraved with BITCH“ - a testament to her submission.
A small crowd, with 3/4 of the people, had gathered around her, their eyes hungry as they watched her perform a series of provocative exercises, sit-ups. Each time she rose, she barked, "I am a bitch, I am a whore, please use me." Each time she is sitting, whoever is taking the video is kicking her pussy, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her body convulsed, and I could see her eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy coursed through her.
The constable's laughter filled the room, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "Look at her," he sneered, "She's nothing more than a shameless whore, isn't she?" A fire ignited within me, fueled by the jealousy that coursed through my veins, but I knew deep down that Chaitali was in control, that this was a part of her I had never before glimpsed.
I was about to return the phone, but then the constable stopped me, asked me to watch more, and the ending proved to be more interesting. It’s a 20-minute-long video; he moved the progress bar to the middle. Now, I can see that there are 6 out of 7 onlookers, but Chaitali is shameless. Again the videographer kicked her pussy, this time she couldn’t control, She collapsed onto the ground, spreading her legs wide. A white river of liquid flowed from her quivering core, staining the cold concrete beneath her as she climaxed in front of an audience that seemed to grow with each passing moment. I watched, transfixed, as my wife surrendered herself to the raw, primal lust that coursed through her veins.
The constable's laughter filled the room gain, "She's a road side bitch". The video continued to play, as I watched my wife surrender herself entirely to this twisted game.
Then he received a call from someone, and left his seat. As I sat in the dimly lit security officer station, my heart thundered in my chest as I awaited the constable's return. I could feel my mind racing, my fingers twitching nervously as I waited for him to come back with the answers I so desperately needed.
When he finally returned after five long minutes, his face was sombre, and he handed me a phone without a word. It was Chaitali's mobile, its screen blank and lifeless. My stomach churned with anger and fear as I realised what this meant - the constable had taken control of her device, and with it, access to all of her secrets.
"I'm going to keep your wife's mobile in custody," he said coldly, "and these, along with a few more videos, will be uploaded from her phone, so that all the charges can be attributed to her." I felt my heart sink as I dared not protest, knowing full well that my silence was my only hope for protecting Chaitali.
The constable then told me to wait there for 30 minutes and disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Minutes stretched into hours as I sat in the cold, sterile room, my mind racing with a million different scenarios. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he returned, holding out a blank piece of paper towards me.
Without much question, I signed it, knowing that I had no choice if I wanted to protect Chaitali from whatever horrors the constable had in store for her. Then, as I prepared to leave, he stopped me once more, his voice dripping with amusement.
"It will take some time for them to reach," he said, "as they just finished tattooing Chaitali." This new horror sent shivers down my spine, filling me with a fear and despair that threatened to
overwhelm me completely. I knew that whatever was happening to her now, it would be beyond anything I could imagine.
And as I left the security officer station, my heart heavy with dread and anger, I couldn't help but wonder - what new horrors awaited Chaitali.
I stood frozen, my mind reeling with a torrent of emotions. I had expected anger and a desire for vengeance, but instead, I found myself strangely intrigued, even aroused. A wild, carnal hunger stirred deep within me, urging me to claim Chaitali, to make her mine in a way that would transcend the boundaries of societal norms.
The constable chuckled softly, sensing my turmoil. He withdrew his phone, pressing play on a video that had haunted my dreams ever since I first caught a glimpse of it hours ago. The screen flickered to life, illuminating Chaitali's lithe form as she stood at the bottom of a deserted footbridge, her body glistening under the broad daylight. A collar adorned her delicate neck, and a leash attached to it trailed behind her as she obeyed the unseen commands of her master. Her eyes were wide with submission, her hips swaying seductively as she executed each command. She was nude, every inch of her flawless skin exposed to the elements, yet she carried herself with a grace that only Chaitali could possess. Her ears were ringed with tiny silver bells, and her collar had been engraved with BITCH“ - a testament to her submission.
A small crowd, with 3/4 of the people, had gathered around her, their eyes hungry as they watched her perform a series of provocative exercises, sit-ups. Each time she rose, she barked, "I am a bitch, I am a whore, please use me." Each time she is sitting, whoever is taking the video is kicking her pussy, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her body convulsed, and I could see her eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy coursed through her.
The constable's laughter filled the room, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "Look at her," he sneered, "She's nothing more than a shameless whore, isn't she?" A fire ignited within me, fueled by the jealousy that coursed through my veins, but I knew deep down that Chaitali was in control, that this was a part of her I had never before glimpsed.
I was about to return the phone, but then the constable stopped me, asked me to watch more, and the ending proved to be more interesting. It’s a 20-minute-long video; he moved the progress bar to the middle. Now, I can see that there are 6 out of 7 onlookers, but Chaitali is shameless. Again the videographer kicked her pussy, this time she couldn’t control, She collapsed onto the ground, spreading her legs wide. A white river of liquid flowed from her quivering core, staining the cold concrete beneath her as she climaxed in front of an audience that seemed to grow with each passing moment. I watched, transfixed, as my wife surrendered herself to the raw, primal lust that coursed through her veins.
The constable's laughter filled the room gain, "She's a road side bitch". The video continued to play, as I watched my wife surrender herself entirely to this twisted game.
Then he received a call from someone, and left his seat. As I sat in the dimly lit security officer station, my heart thundered in my chest as I awaited the constable's return. I could feel my mind racing, my fingers twitching nervously as I waited for him to come back with the answers I so desperately needed.
When he finally returned after five long minutes, his face was sombre, and he handed me a phone without a word. It was Chaitali's mobile, its screen blank and lifeless. My stomach churned with anger and fear as I realised what this meant - the constable had taken control of her device, and with it, access to all of her secrets.
"I'm going to keep your wife's mobile in custody," he said coldly, "and these, along with a few more videos, will be uploaded from her phone, so that all the charges can be attributed to her." I felt my heart sink as I dared not protest, knowing full well that my silence was my only hope for protecting Chaitali.
The constable then told me to wait there for 30 minutes and disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Minutes stretched into hours as I sat in the cold, sterile room, my mind racing with a million different scenarios. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he returned, holding out a blank piece of paper towards me.
Without much question, I signed it, knowing that I had no choice if I wanted to protect Chaitali from whatever horrors the constable had in store for her. Then, as I prepared to leave, he stopped me once more, his voice dripping with amusement.
"It will take some time for them to reach," he said, "as they just finished tattooing Chaitali." This new horror sent shivers down my spine, filling me with a fear and despair that threatened to
overwhelm me completely. I knew that whatever was happening to her now, it would be beyond anything I could imagine.
And as I left the security officer station, my heart heavy with dread and anger, I couldn't help but wonder - what new horrors awaited Chaitali.
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