19-01-2026, 07:55 PM
Anand and Gopi climbed down from the upper berth. They grabbed their clothes from the corner. Anand pulled on his shirt and track pants. Gopi slipped into his shirt and pants. They dressed quick, voices low and casual. "Our stop is nearing, madam," Anand said. "We have to get down soon."
I pulled the thin blanket over my naked body. My boobs pressed against the rough blanket, nipples still erect and sensitive. My pussy throbbed with aftershocks, pussy lips swollen and wet. My asshole leaked the last drops of Gopi’s cum, the sticky warmth sliding down my ass cheeks. I curled under the blanket, mangalsutra heavy between my boobs, shame and pride mixing deep inside me.
Anand held the water bottle tight. The bottle was filled with Gopi’s thick white semen, collected from my asshole. He bent close to my ear one last time, whispered soft and proud. "You have done a great service to the nation, madam. You saved crores of lives tonight. You are a true hero."
Pride swelled in my chest again. Tears of emotion filled my eyes. I had done it. I had sacrificed my body, my marriage, my dignity. I had let two strangers fuck my pussy and asshole, fill me with cum, use me like a whore—all for India. All for my dad, my husband, my sons, every innocent life. I had been brave. I had been loyal to the country. "Thank you, sir." My voice cracked with emotion.
The bus slowed and stopped. The doors hissed open. Anand and Gopi stepped down the aisle, bags in hand. They got down from the bus.
I sat up under the blanket. I looked through the window glass, heart full of quiet victory, chest tight with the weight of what I had given. To my shock, Anand and Gopi stood outside. They gave high-fives to each other, laughing loud, slapping backs hard, faces twisted in ugly triumph. Anand held the water bottle up like a prize, shook it once with a mocking grin, then threw it hard into the bushes. The bottle crashed on the ground, semen spilling out in thick white splashes, wasted on the dirt like it meant nothing.
They both began celebrating, jumping, cheering, fists pumping the air like they had won a game, like they had pulled off the perfect con. Their laughter cut through the night, sharp and cruel.
My heart stopped. The pride shattered into pieces. The world tilted, spun, broke. Everything flashed in my mind: the intelligence story, the biowar, the mission, the semen sample, the promises of saving crores of lives. It was all a lie. A filthy, cruel lie. They never cared about the nation. They never cared about me. They used me. They tricked me into giving my body, my loyalty, my soul. They fucked me. They filled me. They took everything I had to give. And then they threw it away like garbage, laughing at how easy I was.
Betrayal stabbed deeper than any slap, any thrust. It tore through my chest, ripped my heart open. I had betrayed my husband. My marriage. My family. My honor. For nothing. For two ugly men who now celebrated my ruin. Tears burned my eyes, hot and endless. My pussy still twitched with aftershocks, my asshole leaked their cum, my boobs ached from their hands, my mangalsutra felt like chains around my neck. I had been a fool. A naive, patriotic fool.
That is when I realized that I was tricked.
Tricked
Regards
Novelist Casanova
I pulled the thin blanket over my naked body. My boobs pressed against the rough blanket, nipples still erect and sensitive. My pussy throbbed with aftershocks, pussy lips swollen and wet. My asshole leaked the last drops of Gopi’s cum, the sticky warmth sliding down my ass cheeks. I curled under the blanket, mangalsutra heavy between my boobs, shame and pride mixing deep inside me.
Anand held the water bottle tight. The bottle was filled with Gopi’s thick white semen, collected from my asshole. He bent close to my ear one last time, whispered soft and proud. "You have done a great service to the nation, madam. You saved crores of lives tonight. You are a true hero."
Pride swelled in my chest again. Tears of emotion filled my eyes. I had done it. I had sacrificed my body, my marriage, my dignity. I had let two strangers fuck my pussy and asshole, fill me with cum, use me like a whore—all for India. All for my dad, my husband, my sons, every innocent life. I had been brave. I had been loyal to the country. "Thank you, sir." My voice cracked with emotion.
The bus slowed and stopped. The doors hissed open. Anand and Gopi stepped down the aisle, bags in hand. They got down from the bus.
I sat up under the blanket. I looked through the window glass, heart full of quiet victory, chest tight with the weight of what I had given. To my shock, Anand and Gopi stood outside. They gave high-fives to each other, laughing loud, slapping backs hard, faces twisted in ugly triumph. Anand held the water bottle up like a prize, shook it once with a mocking grin, then threw it hard into the bushes. The bottle crashed on the ground, semen spilling out in thick white splashes, wasted on the dirt like it meant nothing.
They both began celebrating, jumping, cheering, fists pumping the air like they had won a game, like they had pulled off the perfect con. Their laughter cut through the night, sharp and cruel.
My heart stopped. The pride shattered into pieces. The world tilted, spun, broke. Everything flashed in my mind: the intelligence story, the biowar, the mission, the semen sample, the promises of saving crores of lives. It was all a lie. A filthy, cruel lie. They never cared about the nation. They never cared about me. They used me. They tricked me into giving my body, my loyalty, my soul. They fucked me. They filled me. They took everything I had to give. And then they threw it away like garbage, laughing at how easy I was.
Betrayal stabbed deeper than any slap, any thrust. It tore through my chest, ripped my heart open. I had betrayed my husband. My marriage. My family. My honor. For nothing. For two ugly men who now celebrated my ruin. Tears burned my eyes, hot and endless. My pussy still twitched with aftershocks, my asshole leaked their cum, my boobs ached from their hands, my mangalsutra felt like chains around my neck. I had been a fool. A naive, patriotic fool.
That is when I realized that I was tricked.
Tricked
The End
Regards
Novelist Casanova
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