27-01-2026, 03:10 PM
Chapter 4: Shattered Promises
The door creaked open under Vikram's weight, the rusty hinges groaning like a confession in the dim corridor.
The storage room spilled its secrets into the open—shadows dancing from a single bare bulb, the air thick with sweat and the musky scent of bodies in heat.
Vikram stumbled forward a step, his pants still bunched at his thighs, cock exposed and throbbing in his hand.
His ecstasy shattered like glass.
Vicky's face turned first—sweat-slicked, eyes widening in surprise, then narrowing with a cruel grin.
He didn't stop. If anything, he thrust harder, his hips slamming forward with brutal force.
Malar was fully nude beneath him, blouse torn open, skirt shoved up around her waist like forgotten cloth. Her breasts heaved with each impact, dark nipples hardened, skin flushed red from the friction. Vicky's thick cock plunged deep into her, stretching her wet folds, the sound of it obscene—wet slaps echoing off the walls.
Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper as if she couldn't get enough.
That is when her eyes met Vikram... "Aahhh... Maama..."
she moaned, voice breaking, body trembling under the assault. "Ayo... vidunga Vicky..." (Leave me, Vicky).
But her hips bucked up to meet him, betraying her words, a gasp escaping as he ground against her clit.
Vikram's world tilted. The sight—his Malar, promised bride, childhood love—brutally fucked by the man who had always been his rival. Vicky's hands roamed possessively, one squeezing her breast hard, pinching the nipple until she cried out, the other gripping her thigh to spread her wider.
Malar's eyes met Vikram's—wide with shock, tears streaming, but her body didn't stop moving, chasing the pleasure even as horror flooded her face.
Vicky laughed low, fastening his pace, pounding into her with savage rhythm, his balls slapping against her ass. "Welcome back my rival see i took her as i said" he grunted, not missing a beat. Malar's moans turned frantic, her pussy clenching around him, juices glistening on his shaft as he pulled out almost fully before slamming back in.
Everything happened in fraction of seconds....
Vikram's hand unconsciously betrayed him stroking once, twice, the overload too much. He ejaculated hard, spurts hitting the floor before them, body convulsing in release.
But his mind failed. Legs buckled. He crumbled to his knees, tears blurring his vision, sobs ripping from his chest. "Why... why did you do this to me?" The words choked out, raw and broken.
Disgust crashed in—disgust at them, at himself. He'd been stroking to this, getting high on the forbidden moans, imagining some nameless woman. Now it was Malar. His Malar. The thought hurt worse than any beating, a knife twisting in his gut. He felt filthy, his cum cooling on the dirty floor like evidence of his weakness.
Vicky didn't care. He kept going, thrusts turning erratic, Malar's cries peaking—"Aahhh... Vicky!" They came together, her body arching off the wall, pussy pulsing around him as he growled and emptied inside her, hips jerking with the force of it. Hot seed leaked down her thighs as he pulled out, cock glistening, still hard.
Malar didn't delay a moment. She slid down the wall, crawling to Vikram on her knees, nude body trembling, breasts swaying with the movement.
"Sorry, Maama... don't say this to Appa, please..." Her hands reached for him, tears mixing with sweat on her face.
Vikram recoiled, voice cracking. "I believed you loved me..."
Malar shook her head, eyes pleading. "No, Maama... I liked you, but as a friend, not as lover. Vicky was the one I loved since college..."
Vicky snorted, zipping up his pants. "She's wrong. She indeed loved you but Only after you went to college, I tricked her into sex. She's mine now." He stepped forward, grabbing Vikram's shirt collar roughly. "You think you had a chance?"
Malar stopped him, pushing Vicky back. "Enough, Maama. Whatever may be, he is my lover, and I will marry him.
It's just an old promise of our parents. And yes, who doesn't have childhood love? I had on you, and you had on me, but I've moved on now. You should move on too."
Vikram stared, heart splintering. "Will Uncle allow this?"
Malar's face hardened. "No, he won't... but glad you saw now. I didn't know how to open with you. Glad you saw... else even if you marry me, I will sleep with him. I'm sorry—be practical, Maama."
Look at you and him.. You know Vicky owns this theatre... his father has 8 rental properties.. 30 acres of land
So... you should understand...
She stood, grabbing her scattered clothes, slipping into her skirt and blouse with quick, practiced movements. Vicky smirked, slinging an arm around her waist. They walked out together, leaving Vikram kneeling in the filth, the door swinging shut behind them.
He stayed there, stuck in the place, mind numb. The movie ended outside—cheers, footsteps shuffling—but Vikram didn't move. The image burned: Vicky's cock buried in her, her moans, the way she trembled and came. His own hand on himself, ejaculating to the sight of his betrayal. Friends called his name in the corridor, searched, but he huddled in the shadows until they left. Only then did he get sense, wipe his face, pull up his pants, and stagger home in the dark.
He reached the house late, the courtyard lit by a single bulb. Malar was already there, sitting innocently on the thinnai. The family gathered—Uncle, Aunt, relatives. Vicky stepped forward with a sneer. "Malar complained her money and ring missing she was crying .. i enquired and he said his name.... It was him—thief!"
Aunt shrieked instantly. "I knew it! Out! Thief!"
Uncle slammed the table, face torn but believing. "How could you, kanna?"
No defense was heard. Relatives nodded, Aunt's rules absolute. Vikram was thrown out that night, belongings stuffed in a sack, the door bolted behind him.
Vikram himself doesnt want to defend he want to leave this place - the place of betrayal asap.
He wandered to a nearby alley, sitting against a wall, degree crumpled in one hand. Footsteps approached—Malar. She knelt, pressing the gold ring into his palm. "This is for what I did to you... I fear you'll plan something with my dad to marry me. Take it. Don't tell about Vicky, or I'll never forgive you."
Vikram broken: "I loved you..."
Her cold, practical response: "Dad adores you, hates Vicky—but I like Vicky more. Be practical."
He has money maama.. Money.. you can buy anything with it.. Earn more find a place for you.. forgive me ... im selfish i did it for me.. and im a coward. i dont have strength to hurt you..or fight with dad... but today you saw all..
as i said earlier... "Good you caught us—else after marriage, you'd watch me with him anyway. Thanks, you escaped this. I did only good to you."
She hugged him tight, whispered "Sorry," , she quickly tucked few hundreds in his pocket and left, her scent lingering like a ghost.
Vikram alone, staring at the ring, the image of Vicky fucking her seared in his mind—brutal thrusts, her trembling body, their shared climax. He walked into the night, homeless, degree in one hand, ring in the other. He decided not to enter this town again. He needed to start life fresh from scratch in Chennai.
He wanted to throw the ring... but his mind said keep it, earn like she said, and give her back with interest...
His other mind whispered: first get something to eat with the hundreds she gave... Irony at his own state and his resolution.
He reached Chennai the next day, the city swallowing him whole.
The door creaked open under Vikram's weight, the rusty hinges groaning like a confession in the dim corridor.
The storage room spilled its secrets into the open—shadows dancing from a single bare bulb, the air thick with sweat and the musky scent of bodies in heat.
Vikram stumbled forward a step, his pants still bunched at his thighs, cock exposed and throbbing in his hand.
His ecstasy shattered like glass.
Vicky's face turned first—sweat-slicked, eyes widening in surprise, then narrowing with a cruel grin.
He didn't stop. If anything, he thrust harder, his hips slamming forward with brutal force.
Malar was fully nude beneath him, blouse torn open, skirt shoved up around her waist like forgotten cloth. Her breasts heaved with each impact, dark nipples hardened, skin flushed red from the friction. Vicky's thick cock plunged deep into her, stretching her wet folds, the sound of it obscene—wet slaps echoing off the walls.
Her legs wrapped tight around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pulling him deeper as if she couldn't get enough.
That is when her eyes met Vikram... "Aahhh... Maama..."
she moaned, voice breaking, body trembling under the assault. "Ayo... vidunga Vicky..." (Leave me, Vicky).
But her hips bucked up to meet him, betraying her words, a gasp escaping as he ground against her clit.
Vikram's world tilted. The sight—his Malar, promised bride, childhood love—brutally fucked by the man who had always been his rival. Vicky's hands roamed possessively, one squeezing her breast hard, pinching the nipple until she cried out, the other gripping her thigh to spread her wider.
Malar's eyes met Vikram's—wide with shock, tears streaming, but her body didn't stop moving, chasing the pleasure even as horror flooded her face.
Vicky laughed low, fastening his pace, pounding into her with savage rhythm, his balls slapping against her ass. "Welcome back my rival see i took her as i said" he grunted, not missing a beat. Malar's moans turned frantic, her pussy clenching around him, juices glistening on his shaft as he pulled out almost fully before slamming back in.
Everything happened in fraction of seconds....
Vikram's hand unconsciously betrayed him stroking once, twice, the overload too much. He ejaculated hard, spurts hitting the floor before them, body convulsing in release.
But his mind failed. Legs buckled. He crumbled to his knees, tears blurring his vision, sobs ripping from his chest. "Why... why did you do this to me?" The words choked out, raw and broken.
Disgust crashed in—disgust at them, at himself. He'd been stroking to this, getting high on the forbidden moans, imagining some nameless woman. Now it was Malar. His Malar. The thought hurt worse than any beating, a knife twisting in his gut. He felt filthy, his cum cooling on the dirty floor like evidence of his weakness.
Vicky didn't care. He kept going, thrusts turning erratic, Malar's cries peaking—"Aahhh... Vicky!" They came together, her body arching off the wall, pussy pulsing around him as he growled and emptied inside her, hips jerking with the force of it. Hot seed leaked down her thighs as he pulled out, cock glistening, still hard.
Malar didn't delay a moment. She slid down the wall, crawling to Vikram on her knees, nude body trembling, breasts swaying with the movement.
"Sorry, Maama... don't say this to Appa, please..." Her hands reached for him, tears mixing with sweat on her face.
Vikram recoiled, voice cracking. "I believed you loved me..."
Malar shook her head, eyes pleading. "No, Maama... I liked you, but as a friend, not as lover. Vicky was the one I loved since college..."
Vicky snorted, zipping up his pants. "She's wrong. She indeed loved you but Only after you went to college, I tricked her into sex. She's mine now." He stepped forward, grabbing Vikram's shirt collar roughly. "You think you had a chance?"
Malar stopped him, pushing Vicky back. "Enough, Maama. Whatever may be, he is my lover, and I will marry him.
It's just an old promise of our parents. And yes, who doesn't have childhood love? I had on you, and you had on me, but I've moved on now. You should move on too."
Vikram stared, heart splintering. "Will Uncle allow this?"
Malar's face hardened. "No, he won't... but glad you saw now. I didn't know how to open with you. Glad you saw... else even if you marry me, I will sleep with him. I'm sorry—be practical, Maama."
Look at you and him.. You know Vicky owns this theatre... his father has 8 rental properties.. 30 acres of land
So... you should understand...
She stood, grabbing her scattered clothes, slipping into her skirt and blouse with quick, practiced movements. Vicky smirked, slinging an arm around her waist. They walked out together, leaving Vikram kneeling in the filth, the door swinging shut behind them.
He stayed there, stuck in the place, mind numb. The movie ended outside—cheers, footsteps shuffling—but Vikram didn't move. The image burned: Vicky's cock buried in her, her moans, the way she trembled and came. His own hand on himself, ejaculating to the sight of his betrayal. Friends called his name in the corridor, searched, but he huddled in the shadows until they left. Only then did he get sense, wipe his face, pull up his pants, and stagger home in the dark.
He reached the house late, the courtyard lit by a single bulb. Malar was already there, sitting innocently on the thinnai. The family gathered—Uncle, Aunt, relatives. Vicky stepped forward with a sneer. "Malar complained her money and ring missing she was crying .. i enquired and he said his name.... It was him—thief!"
Aunt shrieked instantly. "I knew it! Out! Thief!"
Uncle slammed the table, face torn but believing. "How could you, kanna?"
No defense was heard. Relatives nodded, Aunt's rules absolute. Vikram was thrown out that night, belongings stuffed in a sack, the door bolted behind him.
Vikram himself doesnt want to defend he want to leave this place - the place of betrayal asap.
He wandered to a nearby alley, sitting against a wall, degree crumpled in one hand. Footsteps approached—Malar. She knelt, pressing the gold ring into his palm. "This is for what I did to you... I fear you'll plan something with my dad to marry me. Take it. Don't tell about Vicky, or I'll never forgive you."
Vikram broken: "I loved you..."
Her cold, practical response: "Dad adores you, hates Vicky—but I like Vicky more. Be practical."
He has money maama.. Money.. you can buy anything with it.. Earn more find a place for you.. forgive me ... im selfish i did it for me.. and im a coward. i dont have strength to hurt you..or fight with dad... but today you saw all..
as i said earlier... "Good you caught us—else after marriage, you'd watch me with him anyway. Thanks, you escaped this. I did only good to you."
She hugged him tight, whispered "Sorry," , she quickly tucked few hundreds in his pocket and left, her scent lingering like a ghost.
Vikram alone, staring at the ring, the image of Vicky fucking her seared in his mind—brutal thrusts, her trembling body, their shared climax. He walked into the night, homeless, degree in one hand, ring in the other. He decided not to enter this town again. He needed to start life fresh from scratch in Chennai.
He wanted to throw the ring... but his mind said keep it, earn like she said, and give her back with interest...
His other mind whispered: first get something to eat with the hundreds she gave... Irony at his own state and his resolution.
He reached Chennai the next day, the city swallowing him whole.
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