Disha: Lactating mom(Kamadhenu cow) - Exploited by Elders - Gold Grade Scene 10*

[ashuezy2]

Scene 6

The door clicked shut behind Tau ji. The room was silent again, but the smell of his strong perfume and the wet sound of what Mummy ji had done still hung in the air.

I sat there, touching the wet nipple where Tau ji had licked me. My skin felt hot. My nipple was still hard, tingling from the rough texture of his tongue.

Mummy ji stood up and drank a glass of water. She looked normal. Too normal.
"Mummy ji," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Since when? Since when have you been doing... this? And why? Just for land?"

Mummy ji wiped her mouth. She looked at Vivaan sleeping peacefully in the corner of the bed, then she looked at me with tired but strong eyes.

"He takes care of us in troubled times, Disha," she said simply. "You don't know how many times Tau ji saved us. He gave money. He gave support. But men like him... they don't give anything for free."
She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.

"This is what I can tell you right now," she said. "When the time is right, you will know more. But for now... get ready. We only have two hours to assemble for the wedding."
I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly.

"Listen to me carefully," Mummy ji said, her voice turning strict. "Tau ji will now keep an eye on you. He has tasted and he liked it. Make sure you take care of him in the Baraat (procession), in the hotel, and during the Pheras (wedding rounds). Do whatever he asks you to do. If he tells you to hold his stick, hold it. If he tells you to sit in his lap... do that too."

"In public?" I gasped.

"He is the elder," she said. "No one questions him. If you make him happy tonight, tomorrow night will be easier for you."

---

Two hours later, we were downstairs.

I was wearing a deep maroon lehenga. The blouse was cut very low, pushing my heavy, milk-filled breasts upward. I looked like a queen, but inside, I felt like a servant waiting for orders.
The music started. The drums beat loud. Dhum-Dhum-Dhum.

Tau ji was standing at the front, looking grand in his turban. When he saw me, his eyes went straight to my cleavage. He didn't smile. He just nodded.

"Come here, Bahu," he signaled.
I walked over.
"Hold my hand," he ordered. "My knee is hurting. You help me walk."
I took his hand. It was large and rough. He gripped my soft fingers tightly. We walked at the front of the procession.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, leaning close to my ear so no one else could hear over the music. "And very full. I can see them bouncing. Are they hurting?"
"Yes, Tau ji," I whispered back, my face burning. "They are heavy."
"Good," he chuckled darkly. "Keep them heavy for me for tomorrow. Don't let the baby drink too much."

We reached the venue entrance for the ribbon-cutting ceremony. The bride's sisters were standing there, blocking the way, asking for money. Everyone was laughing and bargaining.
Tau ji stood close to me. His arm pressed against my bare waist. His fingers brushed the skin of my stomach, a secret touch in the middle of the crowd.

I looked at him. I needed to know.
"Tau ji," I asked softly, gathering all my courage. "Mummy ji does so much for you. I will do... what you asked. But what do I get in return?"

He looked at me. His eyes twinkled, not with kindness, but with power.

"A cow that gives ordinary milk gets grass," he whispered, his mustache tickling my cheek. "But the cow that gives the sweetest cream... gets to sleep in the master's bedroom. You make me happy, Disha, and you will rule this family. Rajat will just be the husband... but you will be the Queen."

My heart skipped a beat. Rule the family? The power in his voice was intoxicating.
We walked inside.
The wedding rituals started. The fire was lit for the Pheras.
Usually, the women sit behind. But Tau ji patted the cushion next to him.

"Sit here," he commanded.
I sat down, my thigh pressing against his leg. Mummy ji sat a little behind us, holding sleeping Vivaan in her lap. She watched us with a calm, approving look.

As the priest chanted the mantras, Tau ji took my hand again. He placed it on his thigh. Then, he covered my hand with his. To the world, it looked like an elder blessing his daughter-in-law.
But underneath his hand, his thumb was rubbing my palm in a slow, dirty rhythm.
I sat there, watching the fire, feeling the heat on my face and the heavy, possessive weight of the old man’s hand on mine. I was scared, yes. But as I thought about his promise—about being the Queen—I squeezed his hand back.