27-01-2026, 02:32 AM
Just then Govindan’s black car pulled out from the office compound, windows tinted dark, engine roaring as it sped past us. Dhamu cursed under his breath, eyes following the car. At that moment one of Dhamu’s contacts, the middleman who had arranged our meeting, came rushing out from the gate, face red and angry.
Dhamu leaned out of the auto. “Hey, what happened? Where is Govindan sir going?”
The contact spat on the ground, voice loud and furious. “You idiot! You brought the wrong whore! Boss was horny as hell, ready to fuck her right there, but she insulted him, pushed him away. Now he is going straight to Actress Sindhu’s house to fuck her and get this tension out. After that he is heading to the MLA’s place to confirm the encounter. He said go ahead, kill all those rowdies tonight. Shiva is first on the list. You screwed up, Dhamu! You brought a proud bitch who thinks she is too good for sir’s cock!”
Fear slammed into me like a fist. My boobs tightened under the yellow blouse, pussy clenching in terror under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Tears burst fresh from my eyes, sobs choking me. “No... no... please... they will kill him... my husband... my sons...”
Dhamu turned to me quickly, voice urgent. “Akka, get inside the auto properly. We are following him.”
I scrambled deeper into the back seat, yellow saree riding up my thighs, exposing more of my thighs and the lower edge of my maroon panties over my ass cheeks. Dhamu floored the accelerator, the auto lurching forward, chasing after Govindan’s black car through the traffic. My boobs bounced hard under the yellow blouse with every bump, mangalsutra slapping against my cleavage, pussy throbbing with panic under the layers.
Dhamu glanced back at me through the mirror, voice tense. “Akka, we have to catch up. If we can stop him before he reaches the MLA, maybe we can fix this. But you have to be ready. He is angry. You saw what he wants. One fuck, akka. Let him have you. Save Shiva anna.”
I cried harder, hands pressed to my boobs over the yellow blouse, nipples aching from the fear and motion. “I... I will do it... please... just save him... do not let them kill my husband...”
The auto raced through the streets, engine screaming, my heart breaking and reforming in desperate resolve, loyal wife ready to give my body now to save the rowdy husband I loved, the father of my sons, before the cops took him forever. Govindan’s car ahead, taillights flashing, carrying the man who held my husband’s life and my body’s fate in his ugly hands.
Dhamu pushed the auto to its limit, engine screaming as he took a shortcut through narrow slum lanes, wheels bouncing over broken concrete and potholes. The auto shook violently with every bump, jerking my body forward and back. My boobs jiggled wildly under the yellow blouse, heavy boobs bouncing hard against the white bra cups, nipples rubbing painfully and poking harder over the yellow blouse with each jolt. My entire body trembled, ass cheeks slapping against the seat through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat, maroon panties riding up deeper between my ass cheeks, the seam catching tight against my shaved asshole and pulling into my pussy lips.
The rough ride made the maroon panties wedge even tighter, the crotch bunching uncomfortably against my clit and pussy lips, the back seam digging into my asshole like a thin rope. I squirmed in the back seat, trying to ease the discomfort without touching, spreading my thighs wide apart then bringing them together, shifting my hips side to side, clenching and unclenching my ass cheeks to loosen the wedgie. I lifted my hips off the seat slightly, rocking forward and back, hoping gravity would pull the maroon panties back into place. My boobs continued to bounce with the motion, mangalsutra slapping against my cleavage, navel exposed and glistening with sweat above the yellow petticoat.
Dhamu swerved around a corner, auto tilting dangerously, my ass cheeks sliding on the seat, maroon panties pulling tighter still, the seam now fully embedded between my ass cheeks and pressing hard against my asshole. I gasped softly, spreading my thighs wider again, rocking my hips in small circles, trying to shake the maroon panties loose without using my hands, all the little tricks women do when no one is watching.
He finally slammed the brakes in a small empty stretch near the main road, parking the auto under a streetlight. The main road ahead was almost deserted, only a few trucks rumbling past in the distance. Dhamu turned back to me, breathing heavy from the chase. “Akka, Actress Sindhu’s house is five kilometers from here. Govindan sir’s car has to pass this road. We can stop him here. Get out and stand with me. When the car comes, wave him down. We have to talk to him before he reaches the MLA.”
I nodded through tears, climbed down from the auto, yellow saree and yellow petticoat falling back into place but the maroon panties still caught deep between my ass cheeks. I stood next to Dhamu on the roadside, uncomfortable, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I spread my thighs slightly apart again, rocking my hips forward and back in small discreet movements, clenching my ass cheeks tight then releasing, trying to dislodge the wedged maroon panties without reaching down to adjust them. My boobs jiggled softly with each shift under the yellow blouse, nipples still hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra swaying between them.
Dhamu glanced at me, noticing my discomfort. “Akka, stand still. The car will come any minute. We have to stop him.”
I bit my lip, spreading my thighs wider for a moment, then bringing them together sharply, hoping the motion would free the maroon panties seam from my asshole. The maroon panties stayed stubbornly wedged, rubbing my pussy lips and clit with every small movement, wetness seeping into the crotch from the chase and fear. I rocked my hips again in tiny circles, clenching my ass cheeks repeatedly, desperate to adjust without touching, emotional fool heart racing with terror for my husband while my body betrayed me with unwanted friction under the yellow saree. We waited in the dim streetlight, my boobs rising and falling fast, pussy throbbing under the trapped maroon panties, ready to flag down the car that carried the man who could still save my husband—or destroy him forever.
Dhamu noticed Govindan’s black car approaching fast on the main road, headlights off in the bright afternoon sun. He grabbed my arm, voice urgent. “Akka, that is Govindan sir’s car. Quick, look seductive. Make him stop. He has to see you want him.”
Before I could respond, Dhamu grabbed the yellow saree pallu along with the yellow petticoat at my left hip where the nada was tied. He pulled both down in one firm tug, lowering them several inches below my navel, exposing more of my belly, the lower part of my navel, and the soft skin just above my hips. The yellow saree and yellow petticoat now sat dangerously low, almost revealing the top edge of my maroon panties over my shaved mound.
I gasped, boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra swinging between my boobs. To my shock, right across the road, a big lorry was parked under a tree, engine off. The lorry driver and his cleaner sat in the open cabin, both stroking their cocks furiously, eyes locked on me, cock heads glistening as they jerked off watching my exposed belly and low saree.
I whispered in panic, cheeks burning. “Dhamu... those two men in the lorry... they are watching me... they are jerking off their cocks...”
Dhamu glanced over, then turned back to me, voice sharp but polite. “Akka, ignore them. If you want to go fight with them and stop Govindan sir’s car, go ahead. Or stand here and let them watch. Shiva anna’s life is on the line. Do you want to save him or argue with two lorry men jerking off?”
I put my head down, shame flooding me, pussy clenching under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. I let the two men watch, their hands moving faster on their cocks, eyes devouring my exposed navel and low hips. My boobs rose and fell fast under the yellow blouse, nipples hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra trembling with my shaky breaths.
Dhamu reached up suddenly, grabbed the white bra strap on my left shoulder through the yellow blouse neckline, and pulled it out slightly, revealing the white bra strap gently showing on my shoulder between my neck and yellow blouse. He did the same with the right white bra strap, pulling both white bra straps out so they hung clearly visible on my shoulders between my neck and yellow blouse, making my boobs look pushed up and more prominent under the yellow blouse, nipples poking even harder over the yellow blouse.
The two lorry men got more excited, hands jerking faster on their cocks, eyes wide on my exposed boobs and low navel. They groaned low, then both came hard, thick cum shooting all over the lorry floor, splattering the dashboard and their thighs, their cocks pulsing and spurting until they slumped back, breathing heavy.
By that time Govindan’s expensive big car approached, headlights off in the afternoon sun. Dhamu stepped into the road, waving both hands frantically. “Sir! Stop! Please!”
The car slowed, then halted with a screech. Govindan rolled down the window, face still angry, eyes immediately locking on my low yellow saree, exposed navel, visible white bra straps on my shoulders between my neck and yellow blouse, and heaving boobs under the yellow blouse. I stood trembling, pussy throbbing with fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, emotional fool ready to beg again, to offer myself now, to save my husband before it was too late.
Dhamu ran toward the car window, hands folded in pleading gesture. “Sir, please wait! Meena akka has changed her mind. She wants to apologize for the disrespect. She is ready now. Please, sir, give her one chance. She will do whatever you want to save Shiva anna.”
Govindan did not even look at me. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, face cold and furious, voice sharp. “Too late, Dhamu. I am going to the MLA right now. The encounter happens sooner. All rowdies die today. Shiva first. Tell his wife to live with her pride. She insulted me. No second chance.”
Fear crashed over me like ice water. My boobs tightened under the yellow blouse, nipples poking harder over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra trembling between my boobs with my panicked breaths. “No, sir! Please! I am sorry! Save my husband! Do not let them kill him! I beg you!”
Dhamu moved fast, cheekily opening the back door of Govindan’s car and gently but quickly pushing me inside, making me sit next to Govindan on his left side. Dhamu climbed in next to the driver, closing the door behind him.
The driver, a young man in shirt and trousers, kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror while the car idled. His eyes flicked repeatedly from the road to my boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, then down to my exposed navel and low yellow saree on my hips, a visible cock bulge growing in his trousers as he ogled me shamelessly, biting his lip, unable to look away.
Govindan exploded in rage, turning toward Dhamu. “What the hell are you doing? Get this bitch out of my car! She disrespected me! I said no!”
I leaned forward, tears streaming, hands clasped in front of me, voice breaking. “Sir, I am so sorry! I was scared! Please forgive me! I apologize for the disrespect. Save my husband! Please, sir, do not let the cops kill him in the encounter. He has three sons. They need their father. I beg you, sir!”
Govindan glared at me, face twisted in anger, eyes flicking once to my boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples hard over the yellow blouse, the low yellow saree exposing my navel and the soft skin below. He turned back to Dhamu. “You think bringing her back changes anything? She insulted my ego. She pushed me away like I was dirt. I have actresses begging to fuck me. She is just a slum wife. Get her out!”
I sobbed louder, hands reaching toward him but stopping short. “Sir, please forgive me! I was wrong! I apologize from my heart! Save my husband! I will never disrespect you again. Please, sir, have mercy on him, on our sons. Do not kill him!”
Dhamu pleaded from the front seat. “Sir, she is sorry. She will listen now. Give her one chance. Shiva anna is loyal to you also. Please, sir.”
Govindan leaned back, still furious, eyes cold. “She sits here begging like a dog. But she insulted me. Her apology is worthless. Shiva dies today. No mercy. Get her out of my car before I call security and have you both beaten.”
The driver kept stealing glances through the mirror, eyes locked on my boobs and exposed navel, cock bulge throbbing visibly in his trousers, hand twitching on the steering wheel as if fighting the urge to adjust himself.
I cried harder, body shaking, pussy aching with fear under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs rising and falling fast under the yellow blouse, emotional fool heart shattered but still clinging to hope, terrified of what his anger meant for my husband’s life in the cop encounter. The car stayed still, tension thick, Govindan refusing to soften, my desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as he held onto his rage.
The car was spacious and expensive, black leather seats wide enough for three people to lie down comfortably, soft and cool against my thighs through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat. The back seat had plenty of room, almost like a small bed, air conditioning humming low, windows tinted dark so no one outside could see inside. The dashboard glowed with soft blue lights, the smell of expensive perfume and leather thick in the air.
Govindan turned to the driver, a young man named Kumar in shirt and trousers, voice cold. “Kumar, take the car to my guest house. I am going to punish this bitch before I decide about her husband.”
Kumar nodded, eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror, then started the engine. The car moved smoothly forward.
Govindan grabbed my left cheek with his right hand, slapping hard across my face, the sound sharp in the quiet car. Pain exploded on my cheek, tears springing fresh. He slapped my right cheek next, harder, my head snapping to the side. “You think you are special, Meena? You insulted me. You pushed me away like I was some street dog.”
He slapped my left cheek again, then my right, alternating, each slap stinging my face red and hot. I cried out in pain, boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from shock and sobs. “Sir... please... I am sorry...”
He slapped my left cheek once more, then my right again, five more times in quick succession, left right left right left, each slap landing with a loud crack, my cheeks burning crimson, tears streaming down my face. “You think you are too good for my cock? I fuck top heroines daily. Actresses with bigger boobs, tighter pussy, better bodies. They beg me to fuck them. You are nothing. Just a slum wife with nice boobs and ass cheeks.”
I sobbed, voice small and broken. “Yes, sir... I am nothing... I am sorry... I apologize for disrespecting you... please forgive me...”
Govindan shifted closer, grabbed my waist with his left hand, and pulled me across his lap face down. He lifted the yellow saree and yellow petticoat high over my ass cheeks, exposing the maroon panties wedged between them. He spanked my left ass cheek hard with his right palm, the slap echoing loud in the spacious car. Then my right ass cheek, again and again, alternating, ten hard spanks on each side, the slaps ringing sharp and fast, my ass cheeks jiggling violently with every hit, burning red and throbbing with pain. Each spank made my body jerk forward, boobs crushing against the leather seat through the yellow blouse, nipples rubbing painfully inside the white bra cups.
I cried out louder with every spank, tears soaking the seat, hands reaching back instinctively to soothe my stinging ass cheeks. Govindan slapped my hands away again and again. “Keep your hands off. This is punishment. You think you are special? You are nothing. Say it louder.”
I sobbed, voice choked with pain. “I am nothing, sir... I am sorry... I apologize... please forgive me...”
He kept spanking, another fifteen hard slaps on my left ass cheek, then fifteen on my right, alternating in sets, the pain building to a fiery burn, my ass cheeks quivering red and swollen under his palm, each spank making my ass cheeks bounce and sting worse. Pain shot through me, sharp and hot, but the words he had said earlier, that he would save my husband after punishing me, made me tolerate it, biting my lip to keep from screaming too loud, rubbing my ass cheeks desperately after each set of slaps, ass cheeks trembling under my palms.
Dhamu turned from the front seat, voice worried. “Sir, please be gentle. She is scared. She is sorry. She will obey now.”
Kumar, the driver, snapped at Dhamu without turning. “Be quiet, Dhamu. Let sir punish her. She deserves it.”
Dhamu fell silent, eyes flicking back to me over his shoulder, watching Govindan spank my ass cheeks again, the slaps loud in the spacious car. I cried in pain, ass cheeks burning red, rubbing them desperately after each hit, body shaking on Govindan’s lap, boobs crushed against the leather seat through the yellow blouse, pussy clenching in fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Govindan kept spanking, voice furious. “You insulted me. You think your loyalty makes you special? I have fucked women better than you every day. Say it. Say you are nothing.”
I sobbed harder, voice choked. “I am nothing, sir... I am sorry... I apologize... please forgive me...”
Govindan spanked my ass cheeks one more time, hard, then stopped, breathing heavy. “Keep crying, bitch. We have a long drive to the guest house. You will learn respect there. And maybe, if you behave, I will think about saving your rowdy husband.”
I lay across his lap, ass cheeks stinging, tears soaking the seat, boobs pressed flat under the yellow blouse, emotional fool heart terrified but holding onto the tiny hope that this punishment might still lead to my husband’s life being spared. The car sped on toward the guest house, the spacious interior feeling smaller with every slap, every word, every second of my shame and pain.
Govindan grabbed the yellow saree pallu dbangd over my left shoulder. He tugged it hard, unwrapping the yellow saree from my waist in quick pulls, dragging the long folds off my hips and ass cheeks, letting them pool on the floor around my ankles. He pulled the remaining yellow saree completely off my body, tossing it aside, leaving me only in the yellow blouse and yellow petticoat.
Kumar, the driver, kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, eyes wide on my boobs under the yellow blouse and my exposed navel above the yellow petticoat. “Sir, she is a great babe. I started having a boner the moment I saw her in the office. Look at her boobs in that yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse. Her navel so deep.”
Govindan nodded, voice thick with anger and lust. “Yes, Kumar. I had a boner the moment I saw her too. That is why I made the offer. If she let me fuck her pussy, I would save her husband. But she pushed me and insulted me. That is why I am punishing this bitch now.”
He grabbed the yellow blouse front hooks, unhooked them one by one with rough fingers, pulling the yellow blouse open and shoving it off my shoulders. The yellow blouse fell to the seat, leaving me in the white bra. He untied the yellow petticoat nada on my left hip, tugged it down over my hips, shoving the yellow petticoat to my ankles and kicking it aside.
I was now only in white bra and maroon panties, boobs heaving under the white bra cups, nipples poking hard over the white bra, mangalsutra dangling between my boobs, navel fully exposed, maroon panties wedged between my ass cheeks and hugging my shaved pussy lips.
I cried in shame and pain, body trembling on the seat. “Sir... please... I am sorry... save my husband... do not do this...”
Govindan slapped my left cheek hard again, then my right, voice furious. “Shut up, bitch. You are nothing. I fuck heroines daily. They beg for my cock. You insulted me. Now you pay.”
Kumar laughed from the driver seat, eyes still on me in the mirror. “Sir, look at her in just white bra and maroon panties. Her boobs look even bigger now. I want to see her naked, sir.”
Govindan grabbed my waist, pulled me closer, voice low and angry. “She will be naked soon enough. But first, punishment. She thinks she is special. She is not.”
I sobbed, boobs bouncing under the white bra, pussy clenching in fear under the maroon panties, emotional fool heart breaking but clinging to the hope that enduring this would still lead to my husband’s life being saved from the cop encounter. The car sped on toward the guest house, the spacious interior filled with my cries, Govindan’s rage, and Kumar’s lustful stares through the mirror.
We neared the guest house, the car slowing as tall iron gates with high walls and tall trees came into view. Kumar honked twice, sharp and loud. The security guard, a tall man in khaki uniform, stepped out from the booth, recognized the car, and quickly opened the heavy gates. The car rolled inside smoothly, tires crunching on gravel driveway, and the guard closed the gates behind us with a loud clang that echoed in the quiet compound.
As we entered deeper inside the grounds, Govindan’s anger had softened into something darker and hungrier. He reached for me again, grabbed my waist gently this time, and pulled me onto his lap, making me sit facing him in my white bra and maroon panties. My thighs spread over his legs, maroon panties pressing against his white dhoti bulge, ass cheeks resting on his thick thighs. He kissed my left cheek softly, lips lingering, then my right cheek, breath warm and heavy.
“Do not worry, Meena. I will enjoy you now. Right after, I will meet the MLA and save your husband. The encounter will be canceled. Cases dropped. Shiva lives. You just give me what I want.”
His hands slid up my waist, fingers tracing the soft skin on both sides, then moving to my deep navel. He rubbed my navel slowly with his thumbs, circling the deep hollow, dipping one thumb inside to feel the depth, making me shiver. “Such a deep navel. So perfect. I will fill it later. But first, your boobs, your ass cheeks, your pussy... all mine for now.”
I trembled on his lap, boobs rising and falling fast under the white bra, nipples hard over the white bra, pussy clenching under the maroon panties from fear, shame, and the strange heat of his touch. Tears still wet on my cheeks, but his promise—save my husband—kept me from pulling away. “Sir... please... save him... do whatever you want... just save my husband...”
Govindan kissed my cheek again, softer, hands still feeling up my waist and navel, thumbs pressing into the deep hollow. “Good girl. You will enjoy it too. Then your rowdy husband comes home to you. But now... you are mine.”
The security guard watched from the gate as the car moved past, eyes locking on me in just white bra and maroon panties through the tinted window. His face lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading as he stared openly at my boobs under the white bra, nipples poking hard over the white bra, my exposed navel, and maroon panties hugging my shaved pussy lips and wedged between my ass cheeks. He winked at Kumar through the driver window.
Kumar grinned back, raising his hand for a high-five. The guard reached through the open driver window and slapped Kumar’s palm hard, both men laughing low. “Lucky day, sir has a hot one,” the guard muttered, eyes still on my boobs and low navel.
I stared at the exchange, fear twisting in my belly. Something felt wrong—very wrong. The wink, the high-five, the way they laughed. My pussy clenched under the maroon panties, thighs pressing together instinctively, boobs rising and falling fast under the white bra. I hugged my boobs tighter over the white bra, trying to hide, but the car was already moving deeper into the compound toward the main building, carrying me toward whatever Govindan planned next, the spacious interior now feeling like a trap closing around me.
The car rolled to a stop under the grand portico of the guest house, engine purring to silence. Kumar stepped out quickly, walked around to the back door, and opened it wide with a polite bow. “Sir, we are here.”
Govindan looked at me in his lap, still only in white bra and maroon panties, boobs pressed against his chest, nipples poking hard over the white bra, mangalsutra resting between my boobs. I whispered nervously, voice small. “Sir... shall I wear my saree and get down?”
He shook his head, hands still on my waist, fingers rubbing my navel. “No need. I am going to remove them anyway. Do not worry. This is a private place. No one will see you except me and Kumar. You stay like this.”
He opened the door wider, stepped out of the car while still holding me, lifting me in his arms so I sat on his lap facing him, my thighs wrapped around his waist, ass cheeks resting on his forearms through the maroon panties. I wrapped my arms around his neck tight for support, hugging him close, boobs crushing against his shirt, mangalsutra trapped between us. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pussy pressing against his cock bulge in the white dhoti through the maroon panties, body trembling as he carried me inside the house in the same position.
Kumar stayed by the car, watching us go. He called out to Dhamu, who had followed in the auto behind. “Dhamu, how did you come?”
Dhamu answered from the auto. “By auto.”
Kumar nodded, grinning. “Go bring your auto to take her home later. We will take care of her well. Sir will enjoy her, then send her back to her husband with good news.”
I turned my head slightly in Govindan’s arms, voice shaky. “Sir... please let Dhamu be with us... he is like my brother...”
Govindan kissed my cheek again, hands squeezing my ass cheeks over the maroon panties as he carried me through the doorway. “Let him go bring that auto. After we are done, he can take you home or straight to your husband and give him the good news that he will be safe. You agreed to this. Now be quiet and enjoy.”
I nodded weakly, arms still wrapped around his neck, boobs bouncing gently against his chest with each step, pussy throbbing under the maroon panties from fear and his grip. “Yes, sir... I agree...”
Dhamu hesitated at the car, eyes on me in Govindan’s arms, then turned and walking as fast as he could to go back and bring his Auto. Govindan carried me inside the house, doors closing behind us, the spacious hallway lit soft, my boobs pressed to him, ass cheeks in his hands, emotional fool heart clinging to his promise to save my husband after he finished enjoying me. The guest house swallowed us, quiet and private, my fate now fully in his hands.
Govindan carried me inside the guest house, my thighs wrapped around his waist, ass cheeks resting on his forearms through the maroon panties, boobs pressed tight against his chest over the white bra, mangalsutra trapped between us. My arms stayed wrapped around his neck, hugging him for support as he walked through the wide hallway into the large living room. The living room was spacious, with long leather sofas, a wide glass coffee table, thick carpets, and tall windows with heavy curtains blocking the afternoon sun. The room felt private, isolated, air conditioning cool against my exposed skin in just white bra and maroon panties.
He dropped me gently onto my feet beside the large sofa. His hands stayed on my waist, fingers rubbing my navel. “I will take a shower first. I stink. I want to fuck you fresh. Wait here, do not move.”
I nodded quickly, voice small. “Yes, sir... I will wait...” He smelled of sweat and anger, and the thought of him fucking me fresh made my pussy clench under the maroon panties, a mix of fear and the strange heat from his earlier promise to save my husband.
To my horror, as Govindan turned toward the hallway leading to the stairs, Kumar, the driver, suddenly came up behind me from the entrance. He grabbed my waist from behind, hugging me tight against his chest, his hard cock bulge in his trousers rubbing against my ass cheeks through the maroon panties. I froze in utter shock, boobs heaving under the white bra, nipples poking hard over the white bra.
Kumar spoke over my shoulder to Govindan. “Sir, let me enjoy Meena first. I will make her shower and prepare fresh for you after. Please, sir.”
Govindan paused at the foot of the stairs, chuckled low. “Fine, Kumar. Enjoy Meena. But do not take too long. I want her clean and ready when I come out.”
I exclaimed in shock, voice trembling. “Sir... I only agreed to you... not anyone else...”
Govindan laughed casually, eyes on my boobs under the white bra and my exposed navel. “You agreed to save your husband. That means you give me what I want. Kumar is part of this. He will enjoy you now. Then I will. Do not complain. Be good.”
He started climbing the stairs toward his bedroom, disappearing upstairs without another word. Kumar tightened his hug, hands sliding up to grab my boobs over the white bra, squeezing hard. “Relax, Meena. I will be quick. Then sir will fuck you fresh. Your husband will be saved.”
I stood trembling in my white bra and maroon panties in the middle of the spacious living room, boobs crushed in his hands, pussy clenching in fear under the maroon panties, emotional fool heart racing with horror and betrayal, but the promise of saving my husband kept me from fighting too hard. The upstairs shower started running, Govindan cleaning himself, while Kumar’s cock bulge rubbed against my ass cheeks, the guest house silent except for my shaky breaths and his low chuckle. Something felt deeply wrong, but I had no choice now, trapped in this private place, body exposed, waiting for whatever came next to keep my husband alive.
The driver grabbed my hands suddenly, pulling my arms up and wrapping them around his neck. He hugged me tight from the front, crushing my boobs against his chest over the white bra, his hard cock bulge in his trousers rubbing against my navel through the maroon panties. He began kissing my face all over: wet kisses on my forehead over the kumkum dot, on my cheeks, on my lips, tongue pushing against my closed mouth, breath hot and heavy with lust.
I struggled weakly, voice breaking. “Please stop, Kumar... I am a mother... please... I have three sons... do not do this...”
The driver ignored my pleas, hands sliding behind my back to unhook the white bra hooks one by one with quick fingers. The white bra loosened, straps sliding down my shoulders as he pulled it off completely and removed it aside. My boobs bounced free, heavy and round, nipples erect and dark from fear and unwanted arousal, mangalsutra now resting directly between my naked boobs, pendant brushing my cleavage.
He carried me to the large sofa in the living room, placing me down on my back, my boobs spreading slightly to the sides, nipples pointing up, navel deep and exposed, maroon panties hugging my shaved pussy lips and wedged between my ass cheeks. My body was beautiful and sexy in its naked vulnerability: full heavy boobs with dark erect nipples, deep round navel begging to be licked, wide hips flaring out, thick thighs spread slightly in fear, shaved pussy clean and smooth under the maroon panties, pussy lips plump and outlined over the maroon panties, ass cheeks round and firm, mangalsutra shining between my boobs like a symbol of my marriage now being defiled.
The driver stared at my body, mouth open, cock bulge throbbing in his trousers. “Fuck... I cannot believe my luck. Such a beautiful Tamil wife. Look at these boobs, so big and soft, nipples hard like they want sucking. That deep navel, shaved pussy under those maroon panties, ass cheeks perfect for grabbing. Shiva anna is lucky, but today you are mine.”
He removed his shirt quickly, then pulled his trousers and underwear down, his thick cock springing free, hard and veined, pre-cum leaking from the tip. He grabbed the waistband of my maroon panties. I immediately reached down with both hands, holding the top of my maroon panties tightly at my hips, fingers gripping the waistband hard, refusing to let go. “No... please, Kumar... do not remove them... I cannot... I am loyal to my husband... please stop...” My voice cracked with unwillingness, tears streaming, body shaking as I clung desperately to the maroon panties, trying to keep them in place.
The driver ignored my begging, hands stronger than mine. He pulled the maroon panties down over my hips despite my grip, forcing my fingers to slip as he removed them completely from my thighs and ankles, leaving me naked. My shaved pussy was fully exposed now, pussy lips smooth and pink, clit swollen slightly from fear and tension, asshole clean and tight between my round ass cheeks.
I cried harder, arms trying to cover my boobs, legs pressing together tightly. “Please... Kumar... stop... I am a mother... I love my husband... do not do this...”
The driver ignored me, kneeling between my thighs, spreading them wide with his hands, eyes devouring my naked body.
Dhamu leaned out of the auto. “Hey, what happened? Where is Govindan sir going?”
The contact spat on the ground, voice loud and furious. “You idiot! You brought the wrong whore! Boss was horny as hell, ready to fuck her right there, but she insulted him, pushed him away. Now he is going straight to Actress Sindhu’s house to fuck her and get this tension out. After that he is heading to the MLA’s place to confirm the encounter. He said go ahead, kill all those rowdies tonight. Shiva is first on the list. You screwed up, Dhamu! You brought a proud bitch who thinks she is too good for sir’s cock!”
Fear slammed into me like a fist. My boobs tightened under the yellow blouse, pussy clenching in terror under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Tears burst fresh from my eyes, sobs choking me. “No... no... please... they will kill him... my husband... my sons...”
Dhamu turned to me quickly, voice urgent. “Akka, get inside the auto properly. We are following him.”
I scrambled deeper into the back seat, yellow saree riding up my thighs, exposing more of my thighs and the lower edge of my maroon panties over my ass cheeks. Dhamu floored the accelerator, the auto lurching forward, chasing after Govindan’s black car through the traffic. My boobs bounced hard under the yellow blouse with every bump, mangalsutra slapping against my cleavage, pussy throbbing with panic under the layers.
Dhamu glanced back at me through the mirror, voice tense. “Akka, we have to catch up. If we can stop him before he reaches the MLA, maybe we can fix this. But you have to be ready. He is angry. You saw what he wants. One fuck, akka. Let him have you. Save Shiva anna.”
I cried harder, hands pressed to my boobs over the yellow blouse, nipples aching from the fear and motion. “I... I will do it... please... just save him... do not let them kill my husband...”
The auto raced through the streets, engine screaming, my heart breaking and reforming in desperate resolve, loyal wife ready to give my body now to save the rowdy husband I loved, the father of my sons, before the cops took him forever. Govindan’s car ahead, taillights flashing, carrying the man who held my husband’s life and my body’s fate in his ugly hands.
Dhamu pushed the auto to its limit, engine screaming as he took a shortcut through narrow slum lanes, wheels bouncing over broken concrete and potholes. The auto shook violently with every bump, jerking my body forward and back. My boobs jiggled wildly under the yellow blouse, heavy boobs bouncing hard against the white bra cups, nipples rubbing painfully and poking harder over the yellow blouse with each jolt. My entire body trembled, ass cheeks slapping against the seat through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat, maroon panties riding up deeper between my ass cheeks, the seam catching tight against my shaved asshole and pulling into my pussy lips.
The rough ride made the maroon panties wedge even tighter, the crotch bunching uncomfortably against my clit and pussy lips, the back seam digging into my asshole like a thin rope. I squirmed in the back seat, trying to ease the discomfort without touching, spreading my thighs wide apart then bringing them together, shifting my hips side to side, clenching and unclenching my ass cheeks to loosen the wedgie. I lifted my hips off the seat slightly, rocking forward and back, hoping gravity would pull the maroon panties back into place. My boobs continued to bounce with the motion, mangalsutra slapping against my cleavage, navel exposed and glistening with sweat above the yellow petticoat.
Dhamu swerved around a corner, auto tilting dangerously, my ass cheeks sliding on the seat, maroon panties pulling tighter still, the seam now fully embedded between my ass cheeks and pressing hard against my asshole. I gasped softly, spreading my thighs wider again, rocking my hips in small circles, trying to shake the maroon panties loose without using my hands, all the little tricks women do when no one is watching.
He finally slammed the brakes in a small empty stretch near the main road, parking the auto under a streetlight. The main road ahead was almost deserted, only a few trucks rumbling past in the distance. Dhamu turned back to me, breathing heavy from the chase. “Akka, Actress Sindhu’s house is five kilometers from here. Govindan sir’s car has to pass this road. We can stop him here. Get out and stand with me. When the car comes, wave him down. We have to talk to him before he reaches the MLA.”
I nodded through tears, climbed down from the auto, yellow saree and yellow petticoat falling back into place but the maroon panties still caught deep between my ass cheeks. I stood next to Dhamu on the roadside, uncomfortable, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I spread my thighs slightly apart again, rocking my hips forward and back in small discreet movements, clenching my ass cheeks tight then releasing, trying to dislodge the wedged maroon panties without reaching down to adjust them. My boobs jiggled softly with each shift under the yellow blouse, nipples still hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra swaying between them.
Dhamu glanced at me, noticing my discomfort. “Akka, stand still. The car will come any minute. We have to stop him.”
I bit my lip, spreading my thighs wider for a moment, then bringing them together sharply, hoping the motion would free the maroon panties seam from my asshole. The maroon panties stayed stubbornly wedged, rubbing my pussy lips and clit with every small movement, wetness seeping into the crotch from the chase and fear. I rocked my hips again in tiny circles, clenching my ass cheeks repeatedly, desperate to adjust without touching, emotional fool heart racing with terror for my husband while my body betrayed me with unwanted friction under the yellow saree. We waited in the dim streetlight, my boobs rising and falling fast, pussy throbbing under the trapped maroon panties, ready to flag down the car that carried the man who could still save my husband—or destroy him forever.
Dhamu noticed Govindan’s black car approaching fast on the main road, headlights off in the bright afternoon sun. He grabbed my arm, voice urgent. “Akka, that is Govindan sir’s car. Quick, look seductive. Make him stop. He has to see you want him.”
Before I could respond, Dhamu grabbed the yellow saree pallu along with the yellow petticoat at my left hip where the nada was tied. He pulled both down in one firm tug, lowering them several inches below my navel, exposing more of my belly, the lower part of my navel, and the soft skin just above my hips. The yellow saree and yellow petticoat now sat dangerously low, almost revealing the top edge of my maroon panties over my shaved mound.
I gasped, boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra swinging between my boobs. To my shock, right across the road, a big lorry was parked under a tree, engine off. The lorry driver and his cleaner sat in the open cabin, both stroking their cocks furiously, eyes locked on me, cock heads glistening as they jerked off watching my exposed belly and low saree.
I whispered in panic, cheeks burning. “Dhamu... those two men in the lorry... they are watching me... they are jerking off their cocks...”
Dhamu glanced over, then turned back to me, voice sharp but polite. “Akka, ignore them. If you want to go fight with them and stop Govindan sir’s car, go ahead. Or stand here and let them watch. Shiva anna’s life is on the line. Do you want to save him or argue with two lorry men jerking off?”
I put my head down, shame flooding me, pussy clenching under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. I let the two men watch, their hands moving faster on their cocks, eyes devouring my exposed navel and low hips. My boobs rose and fell fast under the yellow blouse, nipples hard over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra trembling with my shaky breaths.
Dhamu reached up suddenly, grabbed the white bra strap on my left shoulder through the yellow blouse neckline, and pulled it out slightly, revealing the white bra strap gently showing on my shoulder between my neck and yellow blouse. He did the same with the right white bra strap, pulling both white bra straps out so they hung clearly visible on my shoulders between my neck and yellow blouse, making my boobs look pushed up and more prominent under the yellow blouse, nipples poking even harder over the yellow blouse.
The two lorry men got more excited, hands jerking faster on their cocks, eyes wide on my exposed boobs and low navel. They groaned low, then both came hard, thick cum shooting all over the lorry floor, splattering the dashboard and their thighs, their cocks pulsing and spurting until they slumped back, breathing heavy.
By that time Govindan’s expensive big car approached, headlights off in the afternoon sun. Dhamu stepped into the road, waving both hands frantically. “Sir! Stop! Please!”
The car slowed, then halted with a screech. Govindan rolled down the window, face still angry, eyes immediately locking on my low yellow saree, exposed navel, visible white bra straps on my shoulders between my neck and yellow blouse, and heaving boobs under the yellow blouse. I stood trembling, pussy throbbing with fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, emotional fool ready to beg again, to offer myself now, to save my husband before it was too late.
Dhamu ran toward the car window, hands folded in pleading gesture. “Sir, please wait! Meena akka has changed her mind. She wants to apologize for the disrespect. She is ready now. Please, sir, give her one chance. She will do whatever you want to save Shiva anna.”
Govindan did not even look at me. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, face cold and furious, voice sharp. “Too late, Dhamu. I am going to the MLA right now. The encounter happens sooner. All rowdies die today. Shiva first. Tell his wife to live with her pride. She insulted me. No second chance.”
Fear crashed over me like ice water. My boobs tightened under the yellow blouse, nipples poking harder over the yellow blouse, mangalsutra trembling between my boobs with my panicked breaths. “No, sir! Please! I am sorry! Save my husband! Do not let them kill him! I beg you!”
Dhamu moved fast, cheekily opening the back door of Govindan’s car and gently but quickly pushing me inside, making me sit next to Govindan on his left side. Dhamu climbed in next to the driver, closing the door behind him.
The driver, a young man in shirt and trousers, kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror while the car idled. His eyes flicked repeatedly from the road to my boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, then down to my exposed navel and low yellow saree on my hips, a visible cock bulge growing in his trousers as he ogled me shamelessly, biting his lip, unable to look away.
Govindan exploded in rage, turning toward Dhamu. “What the hell are you doing? Get this bitch out of my car! She disrespected me! I said no!”
I leaned forward, tears streaming, hands clasped in front of me, voice breaking. “Sir, I am so sorry! I was scared! Please forgive me! I apologize for the disrespect. Save my husband! Please, sir, do not let the cops kill him in the encounter. He has three sons. They need their father. I beg you, sir!”
Govindan glared at me, face twisted in anger, eyes flicking once to my boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples hard over the yellow blouse, the low yellow saree exposing my navel and the soft skin below. He turned back to Dhamu. “You think bringing her back changes anything? She insulted my ego. She pushed me away like I was dirt. I have actresses begging to fuck me. She is just a slum wife. Get her out!”
I sobbed louder, hands reaching toward him but stopping short. “Sir, please forgive me! I was wrong! I apologize from my heart! Save my husband! I will never disrespect you again. Please, sir, have mercy on him, on our sons. Do not kill him!”
Dhamu pleaded from the front seat. “Sir, she is sorry. She will listen now. Give her one chance. Shiva anna is loyal to you also. Please, sir.”
Govindan leaned back, still furious, eyes cold. “She sits here begging like a dog. But she insulted me. Her apology is worthless. Shiva dies today. No mercy. Get her out of my car before I call security and have you both beaten.”
The driver kept stealing glances through the mirror, eyes locked on my boobs and exposed navel, cock bulge throbbing visibly in his trousers, hand twitching on the steering wheel as if fighting the urge to adjust himself.
I cried harder, body shaking, pussy aching with fear under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree, boobs rising and falling fast under the yellow blouse, emotional fool heart shattered but still clinging to hope, terrified of what his anger meant for my husband’s life in the cop encounter. The car stayed still, tension thick, Govindan refusing to soften, my desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as he held onto his rage.
The car was spacious and expensive, black leather seats wide enough for three people to lie down comfortably, soft and cool against my thighs through the yellow saree and yellow petticoat. The back seat had plenty of room, almost like a small bed, air conditioning humming low, windows tinted dark so no one outside could see inside. The dashboard glowed with soft blue lights, the smell of expensive perfume and leather thick in the air.
Govindan turned to the driver, a young man named Kumar in shirt and trousers, voice cold. “Kumar, take the car to my guest house. I am going to punish this bitch before I decide about her husband.”
Kumar nodded, eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror, then started the engine. The car moved smoothly forward.
Govindan grabbed my left cheek with his right hand, slapping hard across my face, the sound sharp in the quiet car. Pain exploded on my cheek, tears springing fresh. He slapped my right cheek next, harder, my head snapping to the side. “You think you are special, Meena? You insulted me. You pushed me away like I was some street dog.”
He slapped my left cheek again, then my right, alternating, each slap stinging my face red and hot. I cried out in pain, boobs heaving under the yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse from shock and sobs. “Sir... please... I am sorry...”
He slapped my left cheek once more, then my right again, five more times in quick succession, left right left right left, each slap landing with a loud crack, my cheeks burning crimson, tears streaming down my face. “You think you are too good for my cock? I fuck top heroines daily. Actresses with bigger boobs, tighter pussy, better bodies. They beg me to fuck them. You are nothing. Just a slum wife with nice boobs and ass cheeks.”
I sobbed, voice small and broken. “Yes, sir... I am nothing... I am sorry... I apologize for disrespecting you... please forgive me...”
Govindan shifted closer, grabbed my waist with his left hand, and pulled me across his lap face down. He lifted the yellow saree and yellow petticoat high over my ass cheeks, exposing the maroon panties wedged between them. He spanked my left ass cheek hard with his right palm, the slap echoing loud in the spacious car. Then my right ass cheek, again and again, alternating, ten hard spanks on each side, the slaps ringing sharp and fast, my ass cheeks jiggling violently with every hit, burning red and throbbing with pain. Each spank made my body jerk forward, boobs crushing against the leather seat through the yellow blouse, nipples rubbing painfully inside the white bra cups.
I cried out louder with every spank, tears soaking the seat, hands reaching back instinctively to soothe my stinging ass cheeks. Govindan slapped my hands away again and again. “Keep your hands off. This is punishment. You think you are special? You are nothing. Say it louder.”
I sobbed, voice choked with pain. “I am nothing, sir... I am sorry... I apologize... please forgive me...”
He kept spanking, another fifteen hard slaps on my left ass cheek, then fifteen on my right, alternating in sets, the pain building to a fiery burn, my ass cheeks quivering red and swollen under his palm, each spank making my ass cheeks bounce and sting worse. Pain shot through me, sharp and hot, but the words he had said earlier, that he would save my husband after punishing me, made me tolerate it, biting my lip to keep from screaming too loud, rubbing my ass cheeks desperately after each set of slaps, ass cheeks trembling under my palms.
Dhamu turned from the front seat, voice worried. “Sir, please be gentle. She is scared. She is sorry. She will obey now.”
Kumar, the driver, snapped at Dhamu without turning. “Be quiet, Dhamu. Let sir punish her. She deserves it.”
Dhamu fell silent, eyes flicking back to me over his shoulder, watching Govindan spank my ass cheeks again, the slaps loud in the spacious car. I cried in pain, ass cheeks burning red, rubbing them desperately after each hit, body shaking on Govindan’s lap, boobs crushed against the leather seat through the yellow blouse, pussy clenching in fear and shame under the maroon panties, yellow petticoat, and yellow saree. Govindan kept spanking, voice furious. “You insulted me. You think your loyalty makes you special? I have fucked women better than you every day. Say it. Say you are nothing.”
I sobbed harder, voice choked. “I am nothing, sir... I am sorry... I apologize... please forgive me...”
Govindan spanked my ass cheeks one more time, hard, then stopped, breathing heavy. “Keep crying, bitch. We have a long drive to the guest house. You will learn respect there. And maybe, if you behave, I will think about saving your rowdy husband.”
I lay across his lap, ass cheeks stinging, tears soaking the seat, boobs pressed flat under the yellow blouse, emotional fool heart terrified but holding onto the tiny hope that this punishment might still lead to my husband’s life being spared. The car sped on toward the guest house, the spacious interior feeling smaller with every slap, every word, every second of my shame and pain.
Govindan grabbed the yellow saree pallu dbangd over my left shoulder. He tugged it hard, unwrapping the yellow saree from my waist in quick pulls, dragging the long folds off my hips and ass cheeks, letting them pool on the floor around my ankles. He pulled the remaining yellow saree completely off my body, tossing it aside, leaving me only in the yellow blouse and yellow petticoat.
Kumar, the driver, kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, eyes wide on my boobs under the yellow blouse and my exposed navel above the yellow petticoat. “Sir, she is a great babe. I started having a boner the moment I saw her in the office. Look at her boobs in that yellow blouse, nipples poking hard over the yellow blouse. Her navel so deep.”
Govindan nodded, voice thick with anger and lust. “Yes, Kumar. I had a boner the moment I saw her too. That is why I made the offer. If she let me fuck her pussy, I would save her husband. But she pushed me and insulted me. That is why I am punishing this bitch now.”
He grabbed the yellow blouse front hooks, unhooked them one by one with rough fingers, pulling the yellow blouse open and shoving it off my shoulders. The yellow blouse fell to the seat, leaving me in the white bra. He untied the yellow petticoat nada on my left hip, tugged it down over my hips, shoving the yellow petticoat to my ankles and kicking it aside.
I was now only in white bra and maroon panties, boobs heaving under the white bra cups, nipples poking hard over the white bra, mangalsutra dangling between my boobs, navel fully exposed, maroon panties wedged between my ass cheeks and hugging my shaved pussy lips.
I cried in shame and pain, body trembling on the seat. “Sir... please... I am sorry... save my husband... do not do this...”
Govindan slapped my left cheek hard again, then my right, voice furious. “Shut up, bitch. You are nothing. I fuck heroines daily. They beg for my cock. You insulted me. Now you pay.”
Kumar laughed from the driver seat, eyes still on me in the mirror. “Sir, look at her in just white bra and maroon panties. Her boobs look even bigger now. I want to see her naked, sir.”
Govindan grabbed my waist, pulled me closer, voice low and angry. “She will be naked soon enough. But first, punishment. She thinks she is special. She is not.”
I sobbed, boobs bouncing under the white bra, pussy clenching in fear under the maroon panties, emotional fool heart breaking but clinging to the hope that enduring this would still lead to my husband’s life being saved from the cop encounter. The car sped on toward the guest house, the spacious interior filled with my cries, Govindan’s rage, and Kumar’s lustful stares through the mirror.
We neared the guest house, the car slowing as tall iron gates with high walls and tall trees came into view. Kumar honked twice, sharp and loud. The security guard, a tall man in khaki uniform, stepped out from the booth, recognized the car, and quickly opened the heavy gates. The car rolled inside smoothly, tires crunching on gravel driveway, and the guard closed the gates behind us with a loud clang that echoed in the quiet compound.
As we entered deeper inside the grounds, Govindan’s anger had softened into something darker and hungrier. He reached for me again, grabbed my waist gently this time, and pulled me onto his lap, making me sit facing him in my white bra and maroon panties. My thighs spread over his legs, maroon panties pressing against his white dhoti bulge, ass cheeks resting on his thick thighs. He kissed my left cheek softly, lips lingering, then my right cheek, breath warm and heavy.
“Do not worry, Meena. I will enjoy you now. Right after, I will meet the MLA and save your husband. The encounter will be canceled. Cases dropped. Shiva lives. You just give me what I want.”
His hands slid up my waist, fingers tracing the soft skin on both sides, then moving to my deep navel. He rubbed my navel slowly with his thumbs, circling the deep hollow, dipping one thumb inside to feel the depth, making me shiver. “Such a deep navel. So perfect. I will fill it later. But first, your boobs, your ass cheeks, your pussy... all mine for now.”
I trembled on his lap, boobs rising and falling fast under the white bra, nipples hard over the white bra, pussy clenching under the maroon panties from fear, shame, and the strange heat of his touch. Tears still wet on my cheeks, but his promise—save my husband—kept me from pulling away. “Sir... please... save him... do whatever you want... just save my husband...”
Govindan kissed my cheek again, softer, hands still feeling up my waist and navel, thumbs pressing into the deep hollow. “Good girl. You will enjoy it too. Then your rowdy husband comes home to you. But now... you are mine.”
The security guard watched from the gate as the car moved past, eyes locking on me in just white bra and maroon panties through the tinted window. His face lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading as he stared openly at my boobs under the white bra, nipples poking hard over the white bra, my exposed navel, and maroon panties hugging my shaved pussy lips and wedged between my ass cheeks. He winked at Kumar through the driver window.
Kumar grinned back, raising his hand for a high-five. The guard reached through the open driver window and slapped Kumar’s palm hard, both men laughing low. “Lucky day, sir has a hot one,” the guard muttered, eyes still on my boobs and low navel.
I stared at the exchange, fear twisting in my belly. Something felt wrong—very wrong. The wink, the high-five, the way they laughed. My pussy clenched under the maroon panties, thighs pressing together instinctively, boobs rising and falling fast under the white bra. I hugged my boobs tighter over the white bra, trying to hide, but the car was already moving deeper into the compound toward the main building, carrying me toward whatever Govindan planned next, the spacious interior now feeling like a trap closing around me.
The car rolled to a stop under the grand portico of the guest house, engine purring to silence. Kumar stepped out quickly, walked around to the back door, and opened it wide with a polite bow. “Sir, we are here.”
Govindan looked at me in his lap, still only in white bra and maroon panties, boobs pressed against his chest, nipples poking hard over the white bra, mangalsutra resting between my boobs. I whispered nervously, voice small. “Sir... shall I wear my saree and get down?”
He shook his head, hands still on my waist, fingers rubbing my navel. “No need. I am going to remove them anyway. Do not worry. This is a private place. No one will see you except me and Kumar. You stay like this.”
He opened the door wider, stepped out of the car while still holding me, lifting me in his arms so I sat on his lap facing him, my thighs wrapped around his waist, ass cheeks resting on his forearms through the maroon panties. I wrapped my arms around his neck tight for support, hugging him close, boobs crushing against his shirt, mangalsutra trapped between us. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pussy pressing against his cock bulge in the white dhoti through the maroon panties, body trembling as he carried me inside the house in the same position.
Kumar stayed by the car, watching us go. He called out to Dhamu, who had followed in the auto behind. “Dhamu, how did you come?”
Dhamu answered from the auto. “By auto.”
Kumar nodded, grinning. “Go bring your auto to take her home later. We will take care of her well. Sir will enjoy her, then send her back to her husband with good news.”
I turned my head slightly in Govindan’s arms, voice shaky. “Sir... please let Dhamu be with us... he is like my brother...”
Govindan kissed my cheek again, hands squeezing my ass cheeks over the maroon panties as he carried me through the doorway. “Let him go bring that auto. After we are done, he can take you home or straight to your husband and give him the good news that he will be safe. You agreed to this. Now be quiet and enjoy.”
I nodded weakly, arms still wrapped around his neck, boobs bouncing gently against his chest with each step, pussy throbbing under the maroon panties from fear and his grip. “Yes, sir... I agree...”
Dhamu hesitated at the car, eyes on me in Govindan’s arms, then turned and walking as fast as he could to go back and bring his Auto. Govindan carried me inside the house, doors closing behind us, the spacious hallway lit soft, my boobs pressed to him, ass cheeks in his hands, emotional fool heart clinging to his promise to save my husband after he finished enjoying me. The guest house swallowed us, quiet and private, my fate now fully in his hands.
Govindan carried me inside the guest house, my thighs wrapped around his waist, ass cheeks resting on his forearms through the maroon panties, boobs pressed tight against his chest over the white bra, mangalsutra trapped between us. My arms stayed wrapped around his neck, hugging him for support as he walked through the wide hallway into the large living room. The living room was spacious, with long leather sofas, a wide glass coffee table, thick carpets, and tall windows with heavy curtains blocking the afternoon sun. The room felt private, isolated, air conditioning cool against my exposed skin in just white bra and maroon panties.
He dropped me gently onto my feet beside the large sofa. His hands stayed on my waist, fingers rubbing my navel. “I will take a shower first. I stink. I want to fuck you fresh. Wait here, do not move.”
I nodded quickly, voice small. “Yes, sir... I will wait...” He smelled of sweat and anger, and the thought of him fucking me fresh made my pussy clench under the maroon panties, a mix of fear and the strange heat from his earlier promise to save my husband.
To my horror, as Govindan turned toward the hallway leading to the stairs, Kumar, the driver, suddenly came up behind me from the entrance. He grabbed my waist from behind, hugging me tight against his chest, his hard cock bulge in his trousers rubbing against my ass cheeks through the maroon panties. I froze in utter shock, boobs heaving under the white bra, nipples poking hard over the white bra.
Kumar spoke over my shoulder to Govindan. “Sir, let me enjoy Meena first. I will make her shower and prepare fresh for you after. Please, sir.”
Govindan paused at the foot of the stairs, chuckled low. “Fine, Kumar. Enjoy Meena. But do not take too long. I want her clean and ready when I come out.”
I exclaimed in shock, voice trembling. “Sir... I only agreed to you... not anyone else...”
Govindan laughed casually, eyes on my boobs under the white bra and my exposed navel. “You agreed to save your husband. That means you give me what I want. Kumar is part of this. He will enjoy you now. Then I will. Do not complain. Be good.”
He started climbing the stairs toward his bedroom, disappearing upstairs without another word. Kumar tightened his hug, hands sliding up to grab my boobs over the white bra, squeezing hard. “Relax, Meena. I will be quick. Then sir will fuck you fresh. Your husband will be saved.”
I stood trembling in my white bra and maroon panties in the middle of the spacious living room, boobs crushed in his hands, pussy clenching in fear under the maroon panties, emotional fool heart racing with horror and betrayal, but the promise of saving my husband kept me from fighting too hard. The upstairs shower started running, Govindan cleaning himself, while Kumar’s cock bulge rubbed against my ass cheeks, the guest house silent except for my shaky breaths and his low chuckle. Something felt deeply wrong, but I had no choice now, trapped in this private place, body exposed, waiting for whatever came next to keep my husband alive.
The driver grabbed my hands suddenly, pulling my arms up and wrapping them around his neck. He hugged me tight from the front, crushing my boobs against his chest over the white bra, his hard cock bulge in his trousers rubbing against my navel through the maroon panties. He began kissing my face all over: wet kisses on my forehead over the kumkum dot, on my cheeks, on my lips, tongue pushing against my closed mouth, breath hot and heavy with lust.
I struggled weakly, voice breaking. “Please stop, Kumar... I am a mother... please... I have three sons... do not do this...”
The driver ignored my pleas, hands sliding behind my back to unhook the white bra hooks one by one with quick fingers. The white bra loosened, straps sliding down my shoulders as he pulled it off completely and removed it aside. My boobs bounced free, heavy and round, nipples erect and dark from fear and unwanted arousal, mangalsutra now resting directly between my naked boobs, pendant brushing my cleavage.
He carried me to the large sofa in the living room, placing me down on my back, my boobs spreading slightly to the sides, nipples pointing up, navel deep and exposed, maroon panties hugging my shaved pussy lips and wedged between my ass cheeks. My body was beautiful and sexy in its naked vulnerability: full heavy boobs with dark erect nipples, deep round navel begging to be licked, wide hips flaring out, thick thighs spread slightly in fear, shaved pussy clean and smooth under the maroon panties, pussy lips plump and outlined over the maroon panties, ass cheeks round and firm, mangalsutra shining between my boobs like a symbol of my marriage now being defiled.
The driver stared at my body, mouth open, cock bulge throbbing in his trousers. “Fuck... I cannot believe my luck. Such a beautiful Tamil wife. Look at these boobs, so big and soft, nipples hard like they want sucking. That deep navel, shaved pussy under those maroon panties, ass cheeks perfect for grabbing. Shiva anna is lucky, but today you are mine.”
He removed his shirt quickly, then pulled his trousers and underwear down, his thick cock springing free, hard and veined, pre-cum leaking from the tip. He grabbed the waistband of my maroon panties. I immediately reached down with both hands, holding the top of my maroon panties tightly at my hips, fingers gripping the waistband hard, refusing to let go. “No... please, Kumar... do not remove them... I cannot... I am loyal to my husband... please stop...” My voice cracked with unwillingness, tears streaming, body shaking as I clung desperately to the maroon panties, trying to keep them in place.
The driver ignored my begging, hands stronger than mine. He pulled the maroon panties down over my hips despite my grip, forcing my fingers to slip as he removed them completely from my thighs and ankles, leaving me naked. My shaved pussy was fully exposed now, pussy lips smooth and pink, clit swollen slightly from fear and tension, asshole clean and tight between my round ass cheeks.
I cried harder, arms trying to cover my boobs, legs pressing together tightly. “Please... Kumar... stop... I am a mother... I love my husband... do not do this...”
The driver ignored me, kneeling between my thighs, spreading them wide with his hands, eyes devouring my naked body.
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