15-11-2025, 08:20 PM
(This post was last modified: 15-11-2025, 08:34 PM by scorpio7. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Ramesh rolled onto his side, his heavy arm still dbangd over her. He began to caress her again, his hand sliding down to cup her breast, his thumb playing with her nipple. The touch was gentle this time, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal way he had taken her moments ago.
He leaned in and kissed her again, his lips moving softly against hers. "See, Divya," he whispered, his voice a sultry purr. "It's not so bad, is it? Just give in to it." His hand slid down further, his fingers brushing against her stomach, then lower, until they found the slick mess between her legs. He parted her folds, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "Do you like this?"
Her voice was a ragged whisper, her throat raw from the screams she had bitten back. "Please, Ramesh," she begged, not sure if she was asking for more or for it to stop. "I don't... I can't..."
He kissed her again, his tongue pushing past her lips, tasting her desperation and fear. "It's okay," he murmured, his hand never stopping its gentle exploration. "You don't have to think. Just feel."
And she did. She felt the heat of his hand, the way his fingers slid easily through her arousal. She felt the way her body responded to him, despite the horror of what had just happened. Her nipples were still hard, her pussy still fluttering from the aftershocks of her forced climax.
As he talked to her, his voice a soothing murmur, she couldn't help but feel a strange comfort in his touch. His words were like a drug, coaxing her to relax, to let go of the fear that had been her constant companion. "You're going to be such a good little slut," he whispered, his thumb circling her clit. "Such a good, obedient wife."
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of remorse, any sign that he knew what he had done. But all she saw was hunger, a deep, insatiable hunger that she knew she couldn't fill. His hand kept moving, his touch growing bolder, more insistent. And she realized with a sinking feeling that this was just the beginning.
Her husband's business trip would be over soon, and she had no idea how she would face him, how she would explain the changes in her, the way her body now craved the very thing that had once repulsed her. But for now, she could only lie there, his arm around her, his hand between her legs, and pretend that this was what she wanted.
The room was a prison of shadows, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window. It cast a pale glow across the bed, highlighting the sweat on Ramesh's body and the tears on Divya's cheeks. His hand didn't stop moving, his fingers sliding through her sticky folds, and she couldn't help but arch into his touch, despite the war raging in her mind she came hard whimpering, shaking and quivering.
After a while she got up to clean herself. She showered alone, water scalding her skin, trying to wash away the evidence—the bruises blooming on her hips, the ache deep inside. But emerging towel-wrapped, she felt his eyes on her like brands. "Drop the towel and come here, whore," he ordered, his tone a mix of hunger and contempt.
Her knees felt like jelly, but she complied, letting the terrycloth fall to the floor. She didn't bother to cover herself, knowing it was futile. She took tentative steps towards the bed, her eyes downcast.
"Look at me," he said, his voice a command.
Her eyes slowly lifted, meeting his, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. The look in his eyes was a blend of hunger and dominance that she had never seen before. He patted the bed beside him, and she knew what he wanted. With trembling legs, she approached, the cold floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. Her knees hit the mattress, and she lowered herself onto it, the softness a cruel taunt to the pain in her body.
Without a word, Ramesh reached out, his hand wrapping around her wet hair. He yanked her head back, and she gasped. His armpit, thick and hairy, was thrust into her face. "Unhhh," he grunted, the sound of pure pleasure, "Inhale me, bitch", he grunted, holding her there as she choked on the raw, intimate stink—disgusting, yet stirring a dark throb between her legs, humiliation twisting into forbidden arousal. The scent of his sweat, musky and male, filled her nostrils, and she had to fight the urge to retch. He held her there, her nose buried in his underarm, his hand tightening in her hair. "Breathe it in," he said, his voice thick with amusement.
Divya's eyes watered as she inhaled the scent of him, her face contorted in a mix of disgust and despair. She could feel the coarse hairs brushing against her cheeks, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. The smell was overpowering, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that seemed to invade her very being. She could feel his hand tighten in her hair, pulling harder, forcing her to stay in place.
"You smell so good," he murmured, his voice a dark purr. "So clean from the shower. But I'm going to dirty you up again. And you're going to love it." He released her hair, and she gasped for breath, her face red and splotchy from the effort of holding back her tears. He leaned back, his cock already hardening again, the evidence of his desire for her stark against the white of the bedsheets.
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of compassion, any sign that he saw her as anything more than a conquest. But all she found was the cold, hard gleam of lust. He was going to take her again, she knew it. And she didn't know if she had the strength to fight him off. Her body was still trembling from the last round, her pussy sore and swollen. But she knew that she didn't have a choice.
Ramesh reached out and stroked her cheek, his touch feather-light, almost gentle. "You're so beautiful, Divya," he whispered. "So much better than any of the other whores I've had." His fingers trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, and she shivered. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "But you're mine now," he said, his voice a dark promise. "Mine to use whenever I want."
Her heart sank at his words, a lead weight in her chest. She was his now, his to use and discard as he saw fit. And she had no one to blame but herself for letting him into her house, into her life. Her eyes searched the room, looking for something, anything that could save her from this hell. But all she saw was the same floral wallpaper.
With a sigh, she turned back to him, her eyes filled with a resigned acceptance. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice a barely audible whisper.
He smiled, a cold, cruel smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Everything," he said, his voice a dark promise. "I want everything you have to give, and more."
Her stomach turned at his words, but she knew she had no choice. With a heavy heart, she reached out and touched his chest, her hand trembling. His skin was warm, his heart beating strong beneath her fingertips. It was a stark reminder that he was real, that this wasn't some twisted nightmare she could wake up from.
He leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She could taste herself on him, a bitter reminder of what had happened. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, her body responding despite her mind's protests. His hands found her breasts again, his thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let herself be lost in the sensation of his touch. It was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't help it. Her body was a traitor, responding to his every move, betraying her with every gasp and moan that escaped her lips. The fear and anger were still there, but they were overshadowed by the dark, twisted need that he had awoken in her.
His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit again. He began to rub it, his touch firm and demanding. "You're going to cum for me," he said, his voice a low growl. "Again and again."
Her eyes opened, and she looked into his, a silent plea for mercy. But all she saw was the same hunger, the same desire to own her completely. And she knew that she was going to give in, that she was going to let him have what he wanted. Because in that moment, she didn't know if she could fight anymore.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, her body a traitor that craved more. His hips moved in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her to the limit.
"You're going to take all of me," he growled against her neck. "You're going to take everything I give you."
Her eyes searched his, looking for the monster she knew was there, but all she saw was the man she had once trusted, the man who had stolen her innocence and replaced it with this twisted need.
With every thrust, she felt herself slipping further into the abyss, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts that she couldn't control.
Ramesh pulled out abruptly, his cock glistening with her juices. He turned her around with a brutal force that sent her sprawling onto her stomach.
He grabbed her by the hips, lifting her up so that her ass was in the air, exposed and vulnerable. The slap echoed through the room, the sound of his palm connecting with her flesh like a gunshot. The pain was immediate and intense, a stark contrast to the numbness she had felt only moments before. She gasped, her eyes welling with tears.
The second slap was harder, the sound of flesh meeting flesh like a punctuation mark in the silence. Her ass was red and hot, his palm prints standing out like a map of her degradation. He leaned over her, his breath hot on her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.
"You're going to love this," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "You're going to beg for more."
And she did. Her body was a traitor, responding to his touch with a need that washed away the fear and pain. He slapped her again, the sound echoing through the room, and she felt the beginnings of another orgasm building.
He released her hips, his hand moving to her ass, his fingers tracing the outline of his handprint. The touch was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the brutal slaps that had come before. He leaned in, his nose pressing into the cleft of her ass, inhaling her scent.
And then his tongue was there, licking her, tasting her. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of humiliation and arousal that she had never felt before. Her body quivered beneath him, her ass cheeks clenching and unclenching with every swipe of his tongue.
He groaned, the vibration sending shockwaves through her. His tongue moved in circles, exploring every inch of her. The feel of his hot, wet mouth on her most private place was a revelation, a dark thrill that she hadn't anticipated.
Her pussy was wet and swollen, begging for his attention. She could feel his breath against her, hot and heavy, his desire for her palpable. He didn't give it to her, though. Instead, he focused on her ass, his tongue moving deeper, teasing the tight ring of muscle.
Her mind rebelled at the thought, but her body responded, her pussy clenching in anticipation. He slid a finger inside her, his tongue still working her ass, and she moaned, the pleasure intense.
The sound of his finger moving in and out of her filled the room, the slickness of her arousal a testament to her body's betrayal. She could feel herself getting wetter, the need for more becoming unbearable.
He pulled away, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You're going to love what's coming next," he said, his voice a dark promise.
Her heart raced, her body trembling with anticipation and fear. She knew she couldn't stop him, couldn't fight him anymore. Her will was broken, shattered into a million pieces.
He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her pussy. The head of it was slick with her juices, a grim reminder of what was about to happen. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a mockery of concern.
Her only answer was a whimper, a pathetic sound that she hated herself for making. But she knew there was no going back now, no escape from this nightmare.
With one swift move, he pushed himself inside her, the pain sharp and intense. She screamed, her nails digging into the sheets as he began to fuck her, his cock moving in and out of her with a brutal efficiency.
Her pussy was stretched to the limit, the pain a living, breathing entity that consumed her. But amidst the agony, she felt the beginnings of pleasure, a twisted, dark need that she had never known. Her body was his, her mind a slave to his desires.
He reached around her, his hand moving to her ass. His spit-slicked thumb hovered over her tight, untouched hole, the anticipation a knife's edge in the air. "You're going to love this, mummy," he murmured, his voice a mocking parody of the affectionate term.
He spat on her arse hole and the spit hit her like a slap, the coldness of it a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. It trickled down, the wetness a promise of what was to come. His thumb pushed against the tight ring of muscle, and she tensed, her body fighting against the invasion.
He groaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and triumph. "Cum for me, mummy," he growled, his voice deep and demanding. "Cum for your baby boy."
The tip of his thumb slid in, the pressure intense, the sensation foreign. She could feel him watching her, his eyes on the mirrored reflection of their joined bodies, savoring her humiliation. The sound of his hand slapping her ass mingled with her cries, a symphony of degradation that seemed to fill the room.
Her body was on fire, a mix of pain and pleasure that she didn't know how to process. She felt like she was drowning, like she was being torn apart from the inside out. But she couldn't fight it anymore, couldn't fight the need that had taken hold of her.
Her pussy clenched around his cock, her body arching back, pushing herself onto his invading thumb. And she did as he asked, her orgasm ripping through her like lightning, her body shaking with the intensity of it.
"Yes, mummy," he moaned, his cock pumping deep inside her, filling her with his hot, sticky cum. "Yes, that's it. Cum for your son."
Her eyes squeezed shut, the tears slipping down her face. She had never felt so used, so utterly degraded. But even as she hated herself for it, she knew that she had loved it. The power of his words, the claim he had over her, it was like a drug, a dark, twisted thrill that she hadn't known she needed.
He pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He leaned over her, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "Forever."
Her body was his, her soul a shattered mess at his feet. She didn't know if she could survive this week, didn't know if she wanted to. But as he pulled her into his arms, the warmth of his embrace a stark contrast to the coldness of his words, she realized that she didn't have a choice. She was his now, to do with as he wished.
And as the night deepened, she lay there, trembling in his arms, her mind a whirlwind of fear and desire. The line between love and hate, between pleasure and pain, had blurred beyond recognition. All she knew was that she was his, and she would do anything, anything at all, to feel his touch again.
"I haven't cum mummy," Ramesh whispered, his voice a seductive purr. His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit. "But I will," he promised, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I will make you cum until you can't think, until you can't breathe."
Her body trembled at his words, her heart racing in her chest. The fear and revulsion she had felt earlier had transformed into something else, something dark and all-consuming. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of the person she had once known. But all she saw was a stranger, a predator who had claimed her as his prey.
He began to rub her clit again, his touch firm and insistent. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, the pressure like a dam about to burst. "Make me cum," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine.
Her eyes snapped to his, a spark of defiance flaring in the depths of her gaze. Without a word, she rolled onto her side, her eyes never leaving his. He watched with a mix of shock and excitement as she took his cock in her hand, her grip firm and sure.
She leaned over, her mouth opening wide, and took him in, her tongue sliding over the head with a slow, deliberate movement that had him groaning. This wasn't the tentative, fearful woman he had broken earlier. This was a creature of fire and passion, a woman who knew what she wanted and took it without hesitation.
Her mouth was a wet, suckling vortex of pleasure, her tongue swirling and dancing over his sensitive flesh. He felt himself swell within her, the pressure building. His eyes rolled back in his head, his hands fisting in the sheets as she worked him with a skill that belied her innocence.
He had expected resistance, more tears, but what he got was a fiery determination that only served to make him harder. He watched in the mirror as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. The sight was mesmerizing, a dark, twisted beauty that had him on the edge of his sanity.
Her hand moved to the base of his cock, her grip tightening as she took him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that had his toes curling. He could feel himself getting closer, the tension coiling in his balls.
With a final, desperate thrust, he came, his seed spurting into her mouth. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, a challenge in her gaze that made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. The power dynamic had shifted, the lines of dominance and submission blurred into something new and exciting.
He leaned back, his chest heaving with the exertion. "You're a natural," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. "A dirty little whore, just like I knew you would be."
Her response was a smirk, a knowing look that made him feel both thrilled and a little scared. "I'm not your whore," she murmured, her voice a silky purr that made him shiver. "But I am your mother."
The words hung in the air, a declaration that sent a thrill through him. He knew then that he had unlocked something within her, a hunger that he could never have anticipated. This wasn't just about power anymore; it was about a connection that was as twisted as it was intoxicating.
He watched as she climbed over him, her naked body glowing in the moonlight. She straddled his chest, her pussy still wet and swollen from his earlier assault. "You're mine," she said, her eyes glinting with a newfound strength. "And I will make you cum until you can't think."
Her words were like a spell, a dark incantation that had him hardening again. He watched as she lowered herself onto his face, her pussy enveloping him in a warm, wet embrace. Her taste was like nothing he had ever known, a mix of sweetness and spice that had him groaning.
Her hips began to move, her pussy grinding against his mouth as she rode his face. The sensation was overwhelming, the mix of pleasure and pain a heady cocktail that had him drunk with lust. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
And when she came, her body shuddering and spasming above him, he knew that he had created a monster, a creature of desire that would never be sated. She collapsed onto the bed beside him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release.
He pulled her into his arms, his cock still hard, his need for her unquenchable. "This isn't over," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "We're just getting started."
Her eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. This was a game that had no end in sight, a dance of power and passion that they were both eager to explore. The lines between love and hate had blurred into a twisted tapestry that bound them together in a way that neither had ever imagined.
And as he pulled her closer, her hand found his cock again, stroking it with a renewed vigor. The power of the moment was intoxicating, a thrill that neither of them could resist. His breath hitched as she took him in her mouth once more, her eyes never leaving his, the challenge in her gaze unmistakable.
He could feel the tension building within him, his cock swelling with each suck and lick. It was as if she was drawing the very essence of his being out of him, reducing him to a mere plaything in her hands. The idea of it should have been degrading, but instead, it only served to make him harder.
Her eyes gleamed with a newfound hunger, a darkness that mirrored his own. They were two lost souls, bound by a force that neither of them could name. The only thing that mattered was the here and now, the feel of their bodies joined in a dance of depravity that transcended the mundane.
His hand found her pussy again, his fingers sliding in easily. She was so wet, so ready for him, and he knew that he had to take her, had to claim her fully. He rolled her onto her back, his body covering hers, his cock poised at her entrance. "You're going to take all of me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise.
Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, knew that there was no going back. But she didn't protest, didn't try to stop him. Instead, she spread her legs wider, her body an open invitation to his dominance.
With a growl, he thrust into her, the feeling of her tight, wet warmth enveloping him like a glove. Her nails raked down his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He didn't hold back, didn't ease into it. He fucked her hard and fast, his hips pistoning into her with a brutal efficiency that made her scream.
The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, the wet slap of their flesh, the grunts of his effort, and her cries of pleasure that grew more desperate with each passing second. It was a symphony of lust that had them both teetering on the edge of sanity.
Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him. He watched with a mix of awe and possession, feeling the power of his own climax building. He leaned down, his teeth grazing her neck, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a declaration of ownership.
Her eyes met his, and she knew it was true. She was his, body and soul, a creature of his making. And as he came, filling her with his cum, she realized that she didn't want it any other way.
Their bodies lay entwined, their hearts pounding in unison. The line between victim and aggressor had been erased, replaced by a bond that neither could deny. The week stretched out before them, a canvas of endless possibilities, each moment a chance to explore the depths of their twisted desires.
The silence was broken only by their heavy breathing, the sound of their hearts beating in time with the rhythm of their lust. They were bound by a secret that no one else would ever understand, a secret that was both their salvation and their damnation.
And as the dawn began to break, casting a soft glow over their entwined forms, Divya knew that she had crossed a line from which there was no return. But in the arms of the man who had once been her son's friend, she found a strange, twisted comfort, a place where she could be both the conservative mother she had once been and the sexual being she had never dared to explore.
The horror of it all was lost in the haze of pleasure and pain, a heady mix that she couldn't get enough of. And as the sun rose, she whispered his name, her voice a soft benediction in the quiet of the room.
Ramesh looked down at her, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He knew that he had won, that she was his now, fully and completely. "Welcome to your new life," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "Welcome to your new role."
Her only response was a soft moan, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her release.
He leaned in and kissed her again, his lips moving softly against hers. "See, Divya," he whispered, his voice a sultry purr. "It's not so bad, is it? Just give in to it." His hand slid down further, his fingers brushing against her stomach, then lower, until they found the slick mess between her legs. He parted her folds, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "Do you like this?"
Her voice was a ragged whisper, her throat raw from the screams she had bitten back. "Please, Ramesh," she begged, not sure if she was asking for more or for it to stop. "I don't... I can't..."
He kissed her again, his tongue pushing past her lips, tasting her desperation and fear. "It's okay," he murmured, his hand never stopping its gentle exploration. "You don't have to think. Just feel."
And she did. She felt the heat of his hand, the way his fingers slid easily through her arousal. She felt the way her body responded to him, despite the horror of what had just happened. Her nipples were still hard, her pussy still fluttering from the aftershocks of her forced climax.
As he talked to her, his voice a soothing murmur, she couldn't help but feel a strange comfort in his touch. His words were like a drug, coaxing her to relax, to let go of the fear that had been her constant companion. "You're going to be such a good little slut," he whispered, his thumb circling her clit. "Such a good, obedient wife."
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of remorse, any sign that he knew what he had done. But all she saw was hunger, a deep, insatiable hunger that she knew she couldn't fill. His hand kept moving, his touch growing bolder, more insistent. And she realized with a sinking feeling that this was just the beginning.
Her husband's business trip would be over soon, and she had no idea how she would face him, how she would explain the changes in her, the way her body now craved the very thing that had once repulsed her. But for now, she could only lie there, his arm around her, his hand between her legs, and pretend that this was what she wanted.
The room was a prison of shadows, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window. It cast a pale glow across the bed, highlighting the sweat on Ramesh's body and the tears on Divya's cheeks. His hand didn't stop moving, his fingers sliding through her sticky folds, and she couldn't help but arch into his touch, despite the war raging in her mind she came hard whimpering, shaking and quivering.
After a while she got up to clean herself. She showered alone, water scalding her skin, trying to wash away the evidence—the bruises blooming on her hips, the ache deep inside. But emerging towel-wrapped, she felt his eyes on her like brands. "Drop the towel and come here, whore," he ordered, his tone a mix of hunger and contempt.
Her knees felt like jelly, but she complied, letting the terrycloth fall to the floor. She didn't bother to cover herself, knowing it was futile. She took tentative steps towards the bed, her eyes downcast.
"Look at me," he said, his voice a command.
Her eyes slowly lifted, meeting his, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. The look in his eyes was a blend of hunger and dominance that she had never seen before. He patted the bed beside him, and she knew what he wanted. With trembling legs, she approached, the cold floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. Her knees hit the mattress, and she lowered herself onto it, the softness a cruel taunt to the pain in her body.
Without a word, Ramesh reached out, his hand wrapping around her wet hair. He yanked her head back, and she gasped. His armpit, thick and hairy, was thrust into her face. "Unhhh," he grunted, the sound of pure pleasure, "Inhale me, bitch", he grunted, holding her there as she choked on the raw, intimate stink—disgusting, yet stirring a dark throb between her legs, humiliation twisting into forbidden arousal. The scent of his sweat, musky and male, filled her nostrils, and she had to fight the urge to retch. He held her there, her nose buried in his underarm, his hand tightening in her hair. "Breathe it in," he said, his voice thick with amusement.
Divya's eyes watered as she inhaled the scent of him, her face contorted in a mix of disgust and despair. She could feel the coarse hairs brushing against her cheeks, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. The smell was overpowering, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that seemed to invade her very being. She could feel his hand tighten in her hair, pulling harder, forcing her to stay in place.
"You smell so good," he murmured, his voice a dark purr. "So clean from the shower. But I'm going to dirty you up again. And you're going to love it." He released her hair, and she gasped for breath, her face red and splotchy from the effort of holding back her tears. He leaned back, his cock already hardening again, the evidence of his desire for her stark against the white of the bedsheets.
Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of compassion, any sign that he saw her as anything more than a conquest. But all she found was the cold, hard gleam of lust. He was going to take her again, she knew it. And she didn't know if she had the strength to fight him off. Her body was still trembling from the last round, her pussy sore and swollen. But she knew that she didn't have a choice.
Ramesh reached out and stroked her cheek, his touch feather-light, almost gentle. "You're so beautiful, Divya," he whispered. "So much better than any of the other whores I've had." His fingers trailed down her neck, across her collarbone, and she shivered. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "But you're mine now," he said, his voice a dark promise. "Mine to use whenever I want."
Her heart sank at his words, a lead weight in her chest. She was his now, his to use and discard as he saw fit. And she had no one to blame but herself for letting him into her house, into her life. Her eyes searched the room, looking for something, anything that could save her from this hell. But all she saw was the same floral wallpaper.
With a sigh, she turned back to him, her eyes filled with a resigned acceptance. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice a barely audible whisper.
He smiled, a cold, cruel smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Everything," he said, his voice a dark promise. "I want everything you have to give, and more."
Her stomach turned at his words, but she knew she had no choice. With a heavy heart, she reached out and touched his chest, her hand trembling. His skin was warm, his heart beating strong beneath her fingertips. It was a stark reminder that he was real, that this wasn't some twisted nightmare she could wake up from.
He leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue pushing into her mouth. She could taste herself on him, a bitter reminder of what had happened. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, her body responding despite her mind's protests. His hands found her breasts again, his thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let herself be lost in the sensation of his touch. It was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't help it. Her body was a traitor, responding to his every move, betraying her with every gasp and moan that escaped her lips. The fear and anger were still there, but they were overshadowed by the dark, twisted need that he had awoken in her.
His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit again. He began to rub it, his touch firm and demanding. "You're going to cum for me," he said, his voice a low growl. "Again and again."
Her eyes opened, and she looked into his, a silent plea for mercy. But all she saw was the same hunger, the same desire to own her completely. And she knew that she was going to give in, that she was going to let him have what he wanted. Because in that moment, she didn't know if she could fight anymore.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, her body a traitor that craved more. His hips moved in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her to the limit.
"You're going to take all of me," he growled against her neck. "You're going to take everything I give you."
Her eyes searched his, looking for the monster she knew was there, but all she saw was the man she had once trusted, the man who had stolen her innocence and replaced it with this twisted need.
With every thrust, she felt herself slipping further into the abyss, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts that she couldn't control.
Ramesh pulled out abruptly, his cock glistening with her juices. He turned her around with a brutal force that sent her sprawling onto her stomach.
He grabbed her by the hips, lifting her up so that her ass was in the air, exposed and vulnerable. The slap echoed through the room, the sound of his palm connecting with her flesh like a gunshot. The pain was immediate and intense, a stark contrast to the numbness she had felt only moments before. She gasped, her eyes welling with tears.
The second slap was harder, the sound of flesh meeting flesh like a punctuation mark in the silence. Her ass was red and hot, his palm prints standing out like a map of her degradation. He leaned over her, his breath hot on her skin, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.
"You're going to love this," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "You're going to beg for more."
And she did. Her body was a traitor, responding to his touch with a need that washed away the fear and pain. He slapped her again, the sound echoing through the room, and she felt the beginnings of another orgasm building.
He released her hips, his hand moving to her ass, his fingers tracing the outline of his handprint. The touch was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the brutal slaps that had come before. He leaned in, his nose pressing into the cleft of her ass, inhaling her scent.
And then his tongue was there, licking her, tasting her. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of humiliation and arousal that she had never felt before. Her body quivered beneath him, her ass cheeks clenching and unclenching with every swipe of his tongue.
He groaned, the vibration sending shockwaves through her. His tongue moved in circles, exploring every inch of her. The feel of his hot, wet mouth on her most private place was a revelation, a dark thrill that she hadn't anticipated.
Her pussy was wet and swollen, begging for his attention. She could feel his breath against her, hot and heavy, his desire for her palpable. He didn't give it to her, though. Instead, he focused on her ass, his tongue moving deeper, teasing the tight ring of muscle.
Her mind rebelled at the thought, but her body responded, her pussy clenching in anticipation. He slid a finger inside her, his tongue still working her ass, and she moaned, the pleasure intense.
The sound of his finger moving in and out of her filled the room, the slickness of her arousal a testament to her body's betrayal. She could feel herself getting wetter, the need for more becoming unbearable.
He pulled away, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You're going to love what's coming next," he said, his voice a dark promise.
Her heart raced, her body trembling with anticipation and fear. She knew she couldn't stop him, couldn't fight him anymore. Her will was broken, shattered into a million pieces.
He positioned himself behind her, his cock pressing against her pussy. The head of it was slick with her juices, a grim reminder of what was about to happen. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a mockery of concern.
Her only answer was a whimper, a pathetic sound that she hated herself for making. But she knew there was no going back now, no escape from this nightmare.
With one swift move, he pushed himself inside her, the pain sharp and intense. She screamed, her nails digging into the sheets as he began to fuck her, his cock moving in and out of her with a brutal efficiency.
Her pussy was stretched to the limit, the pain a living, breathing entity that consumed her. But amidst the agony, she felt the beginnings of pleasure, a twisted, dark need that she had never known. Her body was his, her mind a slave to his desires.
He reached around her, his hand moving to her ass. His spit-slicked thumb hovered over her tight, untouched hole, the anticipation a knife's edge in the air. "You're going to love this, mummy," he murmured, his voice a mocking parody of the affectionate term.
He spat on her arse hole and the spit hit her like a slap, the coldness of it a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. It trickled down, the wetness a promise of what was to come. His thumb pushed against the tight ring of muscle, and she tensed, her body fighting against the invasion.
He groaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and triumph. "Cum for me, mummy," he growled, his voice deep and demanding. "Cum for your baby boy."
The tip of his thumb slid in, the pressure intense, the sensation foreign. She could feel him watching her, his eyes on the mirrored reflection of their joined bodies, savoring her humiliation. The sound of his hand slapping her ass mingled with her cries, a symphony of degradation that seemed to fill the room.
Her body was on fire, a mix of pain and pleasure that she didn't know how to process. She felt like she was drowning, like she was being torn apart from the inside out. But she couldn't fight it anymore, couldn't fight the need that had taken hold of her.
Her pussy clenched around his cock, her body arching back, pushing herself onto his invading thumb. And she did as he asked, her orgasm ripping through her like lightning, her body shaking with the intensity of it.
"Yes, mummy," he moaned, his cock pumping deep inside her, filling her with his hot, sticky cum. "Yes, that's it. Cum for your son."
Her eyes squeezed shut, the tears slipping down her face. She had never felt so used, so utterly degraded. But even as she hated herself for it, she knew that she had loved it. The power of his words, the claim he had over her, it was like a drug, a dark, twisted thrill that she hadn't known she needed.
He pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He leaned over her, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "Forever."
Her body was his, her soul a shattered mess at his feet. She didn't know if she could survive this week, didn't know if she wanted to. But as he pulled her into his arms, the warmth of his embrace a stark contrast to the coldness of his words, she realized that she didn't have a choice. She was his now, to do with as he wished.
And as the night deepened, she lay there, trembling in his arms, her mind a whirlwind of fear and desire. The line between love and hate, between pleasure and pain, had blurred beyond recognition. All she knew was that she was his, and she would do anything, anything at all, to feel his touch again.
"I haven't cum mummy," Ramesh whispered, his voice a seductive purr. His hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her clit. "But I will," he promised, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I will make you cum until you can't think, until you can't breathe."
Her body trembled at his words, her heart racing in her chest. The fear and revulsion she had felt earlier had transformed into something else, something dark and all-consuming. Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of the person she had once known. But all she saw was a stranger, a predator who had claimed her as his prey.
He began to rub her clit again, his touch firm and insistent. She felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, the pressure like a dam about to burst. "Make me cum," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine.
Her eyes snapped to his, a spark of defiance flaring in the depths of her gaze. Without a word, she rolled onto her side, her eyes never leaving his. He watched with a mix of shock and excitement as she took his cock in her hand, her grip firm and sure.
She leaned over, her mouth opening wide, and took him in, her tongue sliding over the head with a slow, deliberate movement that had him groaning. This wasn't the tentative, fearful woman he had broken earlier. This was a creature of fire and passion, a woman who knew what she wanted and took it without hesitation.
Her mouth was a wet, suckling vortex of pleasure, her tongue swirling and dancing over his sensitive flesh. He felt himself swell within her, the pressure building. His eyes rolled back in his head, his hands fisting in the sheets as she worked him with a skill that belied her innocence.
He had expected resistance, more tears, but what he got was a fiery determination that only served to make him harder. He watched in the mirror as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. The sight was mesmerizing, a dark, twisted beauty that had him on the edge of his sanity.
Her hand moved to the base of his cock, her grip tightening as she took him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that had his toes curling. He could feel himself getting closer, the tension coiling in his balls.
With a final, desperate thrust, he came, his seed spurting into her mouth. She swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, a challenge in her gaze that made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. The power dynamic had shifted, the lines of dominance and submission blurred into something new and exciting.
He leaned back, his chest heaving with the exertion. "You're a natural," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. "A dirty little whore, just like I knew you would be."
Her response was a smirk, a knowing look that made him feel both thrilled and a little scared. "I'm not your whore," she murmured, her voice a silky purr that made him shiver. "But I am your mother."
The words hung in the air, a declaration that sent a thrill through him. He knew then that he had unlocked something within her, a hunger that he could never have anticipated. This wasn't just about power anymore; it was about a connection that was as twisted as it was intoxicating.
He watched as she climbed over him, her naked body glowing in the moonlight. She straddled his chest, her pussy still wet and swollen from his earlier assault. "You're mine," she said, her eyes glinting with a newfound strength. "And I will make you cum until you can't think."
Her words were like a spell, a dark incantation that had him hardening again. He watched as she lowered herself onto his face, her pussy enveloping him in a warm, wet embrace. Her taste was like nothing he had ever known, a mix of sweetness and spice that had him groaning.
Her hips began to move, her pussy grinding against his mouth as she rode his face. The sensation was overwhelming, the mix of pleasure and pain a heady cocktail that had him drunk with lust. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
And when she came, her body shuddering and spasming above him, he knew that he had created a monster, a creature of desire that would never be sated. She collapsed onto the bed beside him, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release.
He pulled her into his arms, his cock still hard, his need for her unquenchable. "This isn't over," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "We're just getting started."
Her eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. This was a game that had no end in sight, a dance of power and passion that they were both eager to explore. The lines between love and hate had blurred into a twisted tapestry that bound them together in a way that neither had ever imagined.
And as he pulled her closer, her hand found his cock again, stroking it with a renewed vigor. The power of the moment was intoxicating, a thrill that neither of them could resist. His breath hitched as she took him in her mouth once more, her eyes never leaving his, the challenge in her gaze unmistakable.
He could feel the tension building within him, his cock swelling with each suck and lick. It was as if she was drawing the very essence of his being out of him, reducing him to a mere plaything in her hands. The idea of it should have been degrading, but instead, it only served to make him harder.
Her eyes gleamed with a newfound hunger, a darkness that mirrored his own. They were two lost souls, bound by a force that neither of them could name. The only thing that mattered was the here and now, the feel of their bodies joined in a dance of depravity that transcended the mundane.
His hand found her pussy again, his fingers sliding in easily. She was so wet, so ready for him, and he knew that he had to take her, had to claim her fully. He rolled her onto her back, his body covering hers, his cock poised at her entrance. "You're going to take all of me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise.
Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, knew that there was no going back. But she didn't protest, didn't try to stop him. Instead, she spread her legs wider, her body an open invitation to his dominance.
With a growl, he thrust into her, the feeling of her tight, wet warmth enveloping him like a glove. Her nails raked down his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He didn't hold back, didn't ease into it. He fucked her hard and fast, his hips pistoning into her with a brutal efficiency that made her scream.
The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, the wet slap of their flesh, the grunts of his effort, and her cries of pleasure that grew more desperate with each passing second. It was a symphony of lust that had them both teetering on the edge of sanity.
Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around him. He watched with a mix of awe and possession, feeling the power of his own climax building. He leaned down, his teeth grazing her neck, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. "You're mine," he murmured, the words a declaration of ownership.
Her eyes met his, and she knew it was true. She was his, body and soul, a creature of his making. And as he came, filling her with his cum, she realized that she didn't want it any other way.
Their bodies lay entwined, their hearts pounding in unison. The line between victim and aggressor had been erased, replaced by a bond that neither could deny. The week stretched out before them, a canvas of endless possibilities, each moment a chance to explore the depths of their twisted desires.
The silence was broken only by their heavy breathing, the sound of their hearts beating in time with the rhythm of their lust. They were bound by a secret that no one else would ever understand, a secret that was both their salvation and their damnation.
And as the dawn began to break, casting a soft glow over their entwined forms, Divya knew that she had crossed a line from which there was no return. But in the arms of the man who had once been her son's friend, she found a strange, twisted comfort, a place where she could be both the conservative mother she had once been and the sexual being she had never dared to explore.
The horror of it all was lost in the haze of pleasure and pain, a heady mix that she couldn't get enough of. And as the sun rose, she whispered his name, her voice a soft benediction in the quiet of the room.
Ramesh looked down at her, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He knew that he had won, that she was his now, fully and completely. "Welcome to your new life," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "Welcome to your new role."
Her only response was a soft moan, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her release.
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