Misc. Erotica My Mistake and My Wife’s Gangbang on Our Honeymoon

[chodn_khanki]

As we drove away from the plice station, the weight of uncertainty gnawed at me. I turned to Rajesh Sir, my voice laced with concern and curiosity. "What's going to happen to her now?" I asked, my eyes searching his face for answers.

Rajesh Sir glanced at me, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, she's going to experience much more intense treatment," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. "This is just the beginning for our little slut."

I listened intently as Rajesh Sir detailed the plans for Chaitali. My mind was a whirlwind of anticipation and dark desire. "First, they'll give her Rohypnol," he explained, his eyes gleaming with a twisted hunger. "It'll make her compliant, ready for anything we want. She won't be able to resist, won't even want to."

Rajesh Sir described how Chaitali would be dosed with Rohypnol, the powerful sedative that would strip away her inhibitions and leave her completely at our mercy. "They'll start with a small dose, just enough to make her compliant," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation. "But they'll keep increasing the dosage, making her more and more dependent on the drug. She'll become a slave to her desires, a puppet for our pleasure."

I could picture it vividly—Chaitali, drugged and helpless, her body completely at our mercy. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through me. "And then?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Rajesh Sir's smirk widened. "Then, we'll force her to parade nude," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "She'll be put on display for everyone to see, her body exposed and vulnerable. She'll be humiliated, used, and owned in ways she never imagined."

The image of Chaitali, naked and drugged, being paraded in front of a crowd sent a surge of dark pleasure through me. I could almost see her trembling body, her eyes glazed over with the effects of the drug, her movements slow and uncoordinated. She would be entirely at our mercy, a helpless toy for our pleasure.

But then, a thought struck me. "Why are we doing this?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and concern. "Chaitali has already submitted herself to us. She's ours, completely and utterly. Why do we need to go to such extremes?"

Rajesh Sir looked at me, his expression softening slightly. "It's not just about submission," he explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It's about breaking her down completely, stripping away every last bit of her dignity and self-respect. It's about making her understand that she is nothing more than a toy for our pleasure, a tool for our amusement."

He paused, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "Chaitali has submitted, yes, but there's always a part of her that will resist, that will hold onto some semblance of control. We need to break that part of her so that she truly understands her place. This is about total domination, about making her realise that she has no control, no power, no say in what happens to her."

I nodded slowly, beginning to understand the depth of Rajesh Sir's intentions. It wasn't just about physical submission; it was about psychological domination, about breaking her spirit and reshaping her into the perfect slave.

Rajesh Sir continued, "The Rohypnol will make her mad for sex, her body craving the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But the plice won't give her what she wants. They'll keep her tied up, suspended from the ceiling by her hands, her body exposed and vulnerable."

The thought of Chaitali, drugged and desperate for sex, made me hard. I could picture her body, trembling and exposed, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.  "You know that she is absconding and there is another charge of stealing, so plice will try to extract information from her", he winked at me. "They'll beat her with a heated iron rod," Rajesh Sir continued, his voice dripping with lust. "The pain will be intense, but it will only make her crave sex more. She'll beg for it, beg for the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But they won't give her what she wants. They'll keep her tied up, keep her desperate and needy."

I could feel my cock hardening at the thought, the dark desire consuming me. "And what about us?" I asked, my voice a low growl. "What will we do to her?"

Rajesh Sir's eyes gleamed with a twisted hunger. "We'll use her, of course," he said, his voice dripping with lust. "So this will go for the next three days, when she is returned to us, she will be a different being, no longer a human. The reason I involved plice is that we can ensure no one do any really harm to her or fuck he. With plice protection, no one will touch her, though she will be paraded nude.  We'll fuck her, humiliate her, make her our slut. She'll be ours to use, to own, to do with as we please. But it's not just about the physical pleasure. It's about the power, the control, the knowledge that we hold her very existence in our hands."


"We'll make her beg for it," Rajesh Sir continued, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. "She'll beg for our cocks, for our touch, for our approval. And we'll give it to her in ways she never imagined. But always on our terms, always under our control."



As we arrived at Rajesh Sir's farmhouse, he instructed me to stay there for the next three days and not leave the premises. All updates would be sent to me via WhatsApp. The hotel fare and everything will be taken care of. Rajesh Sir left the farmhouse and told me he would be back with his new pet.

On the morning of the third day, I was called by one of the servants to come to the living room area. The sight that greeted us was both shocking and arousing. Chaitali had been returned, but she was a completely different person. The three days of being drugged, tortured, and paraded nude in public areas had broken her completely. She was no longer the defiant, spirited woman we had known; she was now a shell of her former self, a mere plaything for our darkest desires.

Chaitali was led into the farmhouse by the servants, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. She was completely naked, her skin marked with the evidence of her ordeal. Bruises and welts covered her body, a testament to the brutal treatment she had endured. Her eyes were glazed over, a vacant stare that spoke volumes of the psychological torment she had suffered.

The servants had attached a nose clip to her, forcing her nostrils closed and making it difficult for her to breathe through her nose. The only way she could get air was through her mouth, which was held open by a cruel gag. The combination of the nose clip and the gag made her look like a pig, her breathing laboured, and her mouth hanging open in a constant state of need. The servants laughed as they led her in, their eyes dark with lust and desire. 

Chaitali's nipples were clipped with cruel, biting clamps, connected by a chain that swayed with each step, pulling her nipples down and adding to the cruel tension. The sight of her clipped and weighted nipples sent a surge of dark pleasure through me, knowing that she was enduring such intense pain and humiliation.

As we gathered around her, Chaitali's body trembled with fear and anticipation. She knew what was coming next, and despite the brutal treatment she had already endured, her body betrayed her with a twisted sense of desire. The Rohypnol had left her craving the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But we were not ready to give her what she wanted. Not yet.

Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes dark with lust and desire. He looked at her, his gaze travelling over her body, taking in every inch of her. "You're back, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "And you're going to be ours, completely and utterly."

She tried to speak, but the gag muffled her words, making her sound like an animal. The servants laughed, their eyes dark with lust and desire. Rajesh Sir reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You're going to be branded, you filthy little pig," he growled, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to bear the mark of your owner, a symbol of your submission."

The servants forced Chaitali onto her hands and knees, her body trembling with fear and anticipation. One of the servants brought out a branding iron, its tip glowing red-hot. The iron was a crude, handmade design, with the letters "RJ" prominently displayed. Chaitali was about to be marked as Rajesh Sir's property.

Rajesh Sir approached her, the branding iron in his hand. He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You're going to be mine, completely and utterly," he growled, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to bear my mark, a symbol of your submission."

Chaitali's eyes widened with fear, but she nodded, her body trembling with need.  Rajesh Sir pressed the branding iron against her ass, the sizzle of her flesh filling the air. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain and pleasure. The smell of burning flesh was intense, a testament to the brutal treatment she was enduring. The brand was a crude, handmade design, burned into her flesh with the heated iron. The letters "RJ" were prominently displayed, a constant reminder of her place as Rajesh Sir's property.

As Rajesh Sir pulled the branding iron away. The letters "RJ" were clearly visible, a mark of ownership, a symbol of her submission. The brand was a constant reminder of her place as Rajesh Sir's property, a testament to the brutal treatment she had endured.

The servants led Chaitali to a large, open area in the farmhouse, forcing her to crawl on all fours. The chain connecting her nipple clamps swayed with each movement, adding to her discomfort and humiliation.

Now Chaitali is branded, tattooed her face, paraded nude on the open, a criminal - she can no longer go back to her normal life.