09-01-2026, 01:04 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-01-2026, 09:11 PM by ashuezy2. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Scene 3(Rewritten) - Gold Scene
The hotel room door clicked shut. Rajat had run out quickly to check the catering. Now I was alone in the cool, quiet room. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The mehndi function was finally over, but my body still felt hot from the afternoon sun.
I took a long breath and slowly took off the heavy yellow lehenga. My whole body felt puffy and tired. My chest was hurting a lot. The nursing pads inside my blouse were completely wet. I didn't wear a bra. I just put on a loose white cotton kurta and pajama. I wanted to feel free and breathe properly.
I sat on the side of the bed and rubbed my neck. When I looked down, I saw that the white kurta was already sticking to my chest. Two big wet circles were growing bigger and bigger.
Then the door opened.
I didn't get scared. I thought Rajat had come back to take his wallet.
"Rajat, did you forget—" I started saying while turning around.
It wasn't Rajat.
It was Papa ji.
He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. His face looked very serious. His eyes were heavy. He didn't look at my face. He was staring straight at the wet marks on my kurta.
"Papa ji?" I quickly picked up the dupatta from the bed to cover myself.
But he raised his hand. "Don't cover it, Disha," he said in a low, rough voice. "I have already seen everything. I saw you in the shower. I saw you with Amit on the stage. Now you are ready."
"Ready for what?" I asked. My stomach was turning with fear and confusion.
He came closer and stopped just one step away from me. His strong smell filled the air.
"In our family," he said slowly, "when a new bahu becomes a mother and when she is full of milk like you… she has a special duty."
I stared at him. "What duty?"
"You have to satisfy the senior men of the family," he said as if it was a normal thing. "Tau ji, Rakesh chacha, Suresh chacha… they are all waiting. It is our old family custom."
My face became pale. My legs felt weak.
"What?" I whispered. "This is wrong! This is disgusting! This is… this is like sin inside the family! Rajat will never forgive you if he hears this!"
Papa ji gave a dark smile. "Rajat already knows, beta. He knows the custom very well. He will not stop it… as long as you do your duty. Why do you think he left the room so fast?"
"I don't believe you," I said, my voice shaking. I held the bedsheet tightly. "You are lying. You are just… bad."
"You think I'm lying?" Papa ji said, raising one eyebrow. "All the bahus before you — Neha bhabhi, Suman bhabhi, even your Chachi ji — they have all done it. Many times. And now it's your turn, Disha. I waited patiently. I watched your chest grow with Vivaan. I waited for your milk to come and Vivaan to grow enough. Now the wait is over. You have to learn our family ways."
I shook my head. Tears came in my eyes. "No. I will never do this."
Papa ji didn't get angry. He simply took out his phone.
"Sarita!" he spoke loudly on speaker. "Come to room 302. Our bahu needs to understand the family history."
Two minutes later, there was a soft knock. Papa ji opened the door.
Mummy ji walked in.
She looked completely calm. She looked at Papa ji, then at my scared face, and finally at my wet kurta. She didn't look surprised at all.
"Mummy ji!" I ran to her. "Please tell him to stop! He is saying horrible things! He says I have to… to be with Tau ji!"
Mummy ji closed the door softly. She held both my hands. Her hands felt warm.
"Don't be shy, bahu," she said very gently. "We have all done this many times. We were all waiting for you to be ready like this."
My mouth fell open. "You… also?"
"Yes," she said, touching my hair softly. "Even tonight, Tau ji has asked for my time later. It is our duty."
I felt sick. Very ashamed. But somewhere deep inside, something strange and hot was also moving.
"But why?" I asked in a small voice. "Please tell me the truth."
Mummy ji made me sit on the bed. She sat beside me like she was telling a normal story.
"It started long many many generations ago," she said. "There was a new bride in our family. She had a secret relationship with a boy outside. It became a big problem. When they asked her why, she said her husband was not enough for her. She said the women have too much 'fire' inside them. We woman always want more."
Mummy ji looked at my chest for a long moment.
"So the elders decided," she continued, "that the fire should stay inside the family only. They made a rule. The senior men will take care of it. So the women don't go outside. This became our family tradition. I know you also feel that fire, Disha. I saw how you looked at the driver. I saw how you touched Amit today. You have it too. So we keep it in the family."
She smiled a little. "Forget Sumit for now. He is not married yet. He will get his turn only after he brings a wife. And that girl Amit is marrying — Preeti — after she has a baby and becomes full like you… she will also join. This is the cycle."
I sat there like a statue. Everything I knew about right and wrong was breaking.
Mummy ji came closer. She touched the wet spot on my kurta with her fingers.
"Now," she whispered, "about this milk… can I taste it?"
"Mummy ji?" I was shocked.
"I have to check," she said seriously. "Tau ji is very strict about the taste. If it's not sweet enough, he gets upset. If it's good… he becomes very happy with us."
I couldn't move. I just watched as Mummy ji slowly opened the buttons of my kurta.
Papa ji stood near the window, watching with a hungry smile.
"It's also about the land, Disha," Papa ji said. "Tau ji owns most of our village land. It's worth many crores. If he is happy… if he drinks your sweet milk and feels satisfied… he will give a big share to our branch. For Rajat. For Vivaan."
Mummy ji didn't wait anymore. She bent down and took my nipple in her mouth.
I couldn't move. My body felt frozen, paralyzed by the shock of what Mummy ji was saying and what she was doing. My brain was screaming “Push her away! Run!” but my legs were shaking so hard they wouldn't work. And deep down... deep down in the heavy, throbbing weight of my chest, a treacherous part of me wanted the relief.
Mummy ji’s hands were gentle but firm. She undid the top three buttons of my white kurta. She didn't hesitate. She pulled the fabric aside, and my left breast tumbled out. It was massive, swollen hard with hours of accumulated milk. The skin was tight and shiny, the blue veins pulsing underneath. The nipple was dark, erect, and leaking a steady stream of white fluid that ran down my ribcage.
"So full," Mummy ji whispered, her eyes widening. "A true Kamadhenu (Cow of plenty)."
She didn't wait. She leaned forward. I felt her hot breath on my skin.
Then, her wet, warm mouth closed over my nipple.
I gasped, my back arching off the mattress involuntarily. Oh my god.
It wasn't like Vivaan. Vivaan has a small mouth; he is gentle. Mummy ji was an adult. Her mouth was large, warm, and experienced. She created a vacuum instantly. She latched on with a suction so strong it felt like she was pulling my soul out through my chest.
I looked down, my eyes wide with disbelief. My mother-in-law, the woman I touched feet of every morning, was buried in my cleavage, nursing from me like a baby.
"Mmmm," she hummed against my skin, the vibration buzzing through my sensitive breast.
She started to suck rhythmically. Her tongue swirled around the nipple, massaging the areola to stimulate the flow. And my body... my traitorous body responded. I felt the familiar tingle of the let-down reflex. A rush of heat spread from my chest to my belly, and then lower, settling between my legs.
The milk sprayed into her mouth. I could feel it leaving me. She gulped it down greedily.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
"It’s so much," I thought, biting my lip to stop a moan. "She is drinking everything."
I felt a mix of intense shame and blinding arousal. It was humiliating to be used like cattle, to be tested like a product. But at the same time, the relief was orgasmic. The pain of the fullness was fading, replaced by the pleasure of being emptied.
Mummy ji didn't stop. She drank and drank. She used her hand to knead the side of my breast, squeezing the milk ducts to get every drop. I watched her throat move as she swallowed my body's cream. She must have drunk at least half a bottle's worth in just two minutes.
Finally, she pulled back with a loud pop.
My breast was wet with her saliva and leftover milk. The nipple was red and elongated from her strong suction.
Mummy ji sat back, wiping a thick streak of white milk from her chin. She licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked at Papa ji, her eyes shining with a strange excitement.
"It is perfect," she announced, her voice slightly breathless. "It is thick, very sweet, and warm. Much better than Suman’s. Tau ji is going to be very pleased."
Papa ji was standing by the window, watching the whole performance. He was rubbing the front of his trousers.
"Excellent," he growled, his eyes dark with lust. "If the milk is this sweet, the land deal is as good as done."
He checked his watch.
"Get her ready, Sarita," Papa ji ordered. "Wipe her face. Make her look presentable. Tau ji is walking down the corridor right now. He likes his milk fresh from the source."
I slumped back against the pillows, clutching my open kurta, my heart pounding against my ribs. I looked at my wet nipple, then at the door. I realized with a terrifying thrill that my life as a normal housewife was over. I was now the family’s prize, and the real milking was about to begin.
The hotel room door clicked shut. Rajat had run out quickly to check the catering. Now I was alone in the cool, quiet room. It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The mehndi function was finally over, but my body still felt hot from the afternoon sun.
I took a long breath and slowly took off the heavy yellow lehenga. My whole body felt puffy and tired. My chest was hurting a lot. The nursing pads inside my blouse were completely wet. I didn't wear a bra. I just put on a loose white cotton kurta and pajama. I wanted to feel free and breathe properly.
I sat on the side of the bed and rubbed my neck. When I looked down, I saw that the white kurta was already sticking to my chest. Two big wet circles were growing bigger and bigger.
Then the door opened.
I didn't get scared. I thought Rajat had come back to take his wallet.
"Rajat, did you forget—" I started saying while turning around.
It wasn't Rajat.
It was Papa ji.
He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. His face looked very serious. His eyes were heavy. He didn't look at my face. He was staring straight at the wet marks on my kurta.
"Papa ji?" I quickly picked up the dupatta from the bed to cover myself.
But he raised his hand. "Don't cover it, Disha," he said in a low, rough voice. "I have already seen everything. I saw you in the shower. I saw you with Amit on the stage. Now you are ready."
"Ready for what?" I asked. My stomach was turning with fear and confusion.
He came closer and stopped just one step away from me. His strong smell filled the air.
"In our family," he said slowly, "when a new bahu becomes a mother and when she is full of milk like you… she has a special duty."
I stared at him. "What duty?"
"You have to satisfy the senior men of the family," he said as if it was a normal thing. "Tau ji, Rakesh chacha, Suresh chacha… they are all waiting. It is our old family custom."
My face became pale. My legs felt weak.
"What?" I whispered. "This is wrong! This is disgusting! This is… this is like sin inside the family! Rajat will never forgive you if he hears this!"
Papa ji gave a dark smile. "Rajat already knows, beta. He knows the custom very well. He will not stop it… as long as you do your duty. Why do you think he left the room so fast?"
"I don't believe you," I said, my voice shaking. I held the bedsheet tightly. "You are lying. You are just… bad."
"You think I'm lying?" Papa ji said, raising one eyebrow. "All the bahus before you — Neha bhabhi, Suman bhabhi, even your Chachi ji — they have all done it. Many times. And now it's your turn, Disha. I waited patiently. I watched your chest grow with Vivaan. I waited for your milk to come and Vivaan to grow enough. Now the wait is over. You have to learn our family ways."
I shook my head. Tears came in my eyes. "No. I will never do this."
Papa ji didn't get angry. He simply took out his phone.
"Sarita!" he spoke loudly on speaker. "Come to room 302. Our bahu needs to understand the family history."
Two minutes later, there was a soft knock. Papa ji opened the door.
Mummy ji walked in.
She looked completely calm. She looked at Papa ji, then at my scared face, and finally at my wet kurta. She didn't look surprised at all.
"Mummy ji!" I ran to her. "Please tell him to stop! He is saying horrible things! He says I have to… to be with Tau ji!"
Mummy ji closed the door softly. She held both my hands. Her hands felt warm.
"Don't be shy, bahu," she said very gently. "We have all done this many times. We were all waiting for you to be ready like this."
My mouth fell open. "You… also?"
"Yes," she said, touching my hair softly. "Even tonight, Tau ji has asked for my time later. It is our duty."
I felt sick. Very ashamed. But somewhere deep inside, something strange and hot was also moving.
"But why?" I asked in a small voice. "Please tell me the truth."
Mummy ji made me sit on the bed. She sat beside me like she was telling a normal story.
"It started long many many generations ago," she said. "There was a new bride in our family. She had a secret relationship with a boy outside. It became a big problem. When they asked her why, she said her husband was not enough for her. She said the women have too much 'fire' inside them. We woman always want more."
Mummy ji looked at my chest for a long moment.
"So the elders decided," she continued, "that the fire should stay inside the family only. They made a rule. The senior men will take care of it. So the women don't go outside. This became our family tradition. I know you also feel that fire, Disha. I saw how you looked at the driver. I saw how you touched Amit today. You have it too. So we keep it in the family."
She smiled a little. "Forget Sumit for now. He is not married yet. He will get his turn only after he brings a wife. And that girl Amit is marrying — Preeti — after she has a baby and becomes full like you… she will also join. This is the cycle."
I sat there like a statue. Everything I knew about right and wrong was breaking.
Mummy ji came closer. She touched the wet spot on my kurta with her fingers.
"Now," she whispered, "about this milk… can I taste it?"
"Mummy ji?" I was shocked.
"I have to check," she said seriously. "Tau ji is very strict about the taste. If it's not sweet enough, he gets upset. If it's good… he becomes very happy with us."
I couldn't move. I just watched as Mummy ji slowly opened the buttons of my kurta.
Papa ji stood near the window, watching with a hungry smile.
"It's also about the land, Disha," Papa ji said. "Tau ji owns most of our village land. It's worth many crores. If he is happy… if he drinks your sweet milk and feels satisfied… he will give a big share to our branch. For Rajat. For Vivaan."
Mummy ji didn't wait anymore. She bent down and took my nipple in her mouth.
I couldn't move. My body felt frozen, paralyzed by the shock of what Mummy ji was saying and what she was doing. My brain was screaming “Push her away! Run!” but my legs were shaking so hard they wouldn't work. And deep down... deep down in the heavy, throbbing weight of my chest, a treacherous part of me wanted the relief.
Mummy ji’s hands were gentle but firm. She undid the top three buttons of my white kurta. She didn't hesitate. She pulled the fabric aside, and my left breast tumbled out. It was massive, swollen hard with hours of accumulated milk. The skin was tight and shiny, the blue veins pulsing underneath. The nipple was dark, erect, and leaking a steady stream of white fluid that ran down my ribcage.
"So full," Mummy ji whispered, her eyes widening. "A true Kamadhenu (Cow of plenty)."
She didn't wait. She leaned forward. I felt her hot breath on my skin.
Then, her wet, warm mouth closed over my nipple.
I gasped, my back arching off the mattress involuntarily. Oh my god.
It wasn't like Vivaan. Vivaan has a small mouth; he is gentle. Mummy ji was an adult. Her mouth was large, warm, and experienced. She created a vacuum instantly. She latched on with a suction so strong it felt like she was pulling my soul out through my chest.
I looked down, my eyes wide with disbelief. My mother-in-law, the woman I touched feet of every morning, was buried in my cleavage, nursing from me like a baby.
"Mmmm," she hummed against my skin, the vibration buzzing through my sensitive breast.
She started to suck rhythmically. Her tongue swirled around the nipple, massaging the areola to stimulate the flow. And my body... my traitorous body responded. I felt the familiar tingle of the let-down reflex. A rush of heat spread from my chest to my belly, and then lower, settling between my legs.
The milk sprayed into her mouth. I could feel it leaving me. She gulped it down greedily.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
"It’s so much," I thought, biting my lip to stop a moan. "She is drinking everything."
I felt a mix of intense shame and blinding arousal. It was humiliating to be used like cattle, to be tested like a product. But at the same time, the relief was orgasmic. The pain of the fullness was fading, replaced by the pleasure of being emptied.
Mummy ji didn't stop. She drank and drank. She used her hand to knead the side of my breast, squeezing the milk ducts to get every drop. I watched her throat move as she swallowed my body's cream. She must have drunk at least half a bottle's worth in just two minutes.
Finally, she pulled back with a loud pop.
My breast was wet with her saliva and leftover milk. The nipple was red and elongated from her strong suction.
Mummy ji sat back, wiping a thick streak of white milk from her chin. She licked her lips, savoring the taste. She looked at Papa ji, her eyes shining with a strange excitement.
"It is perfect," she announced, her voice slightly breathless. "It is thick, very sweet, and warm. Much better than Suman’s. Tau ji is going to be very pleased."
Papa ji was standing by the window, watching the whole performance. He was rubbing the front of his trousers.
"Excellent," he growled, his eyes dark with lust. "If the milk is this sweet, the land deal is as good as done."
He checked his watch.
"Get her ready, Sarita," Papa ji ordered. "Wipe her face. Make her look presentable. Tau ji is walking down the corridor right now. He likes his milk fresh from the source."
I slumped back against the pillows, clutching my open kurta, my heart pounding against my ribs. I looked at my wet nipple, then at the door. I realized with a terrifying thrill that my life as a normal housewife was over. I was now the family’s prize, and the real milking was about to begin.
- PM me for Exclusive content. Stories with full videos for end to end scenes.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)