Adultery Wife's Submission to husband's Enemy

[girrich9486]

Karthik groaned low and broken on the other end.

Vikram peeled the bra cups down. Heavy breasts spilled free — nipples dark, swollen, begging.


He caught them again. Pinched. Rolled. Tugged until tears pricked her eyes and fresh screams tore from her

throat — raw, animal, echoing off glass walls.

Then he pushed her forward.

Face down on the bed. Ass high. Knees spread wide.

He dragged the lace panty aside — not off — just enough.

Two fingers plunged inside her soaked heat.

She moaned — long, guttural.

He added a third.

Her scream shattered the room — high, desperate, repeating in frantic waves: “Ahhh… ahhhh… AHHHHHH!”

Vikram looked straight at the camera — at Karthik on the monitor feed.

“Listen to your wife, Karthik. This is what she sounds like when she’s already dripping for another man’s

cock.”

He finger-fucked her mercilessly — curling, twisting, the wet squelch obscene and loud.

Her screams climbed higher — louder — until they were almost continuous wails.

“Please…” Karthik rasped over the line. “Please let me see. Video call. I need to see her face… her body…

please…”

Vikram stilled his fingers deep inside her.

Smiled.

“You want to watch me ruin her live?”

“Yes… God yes…”

“Then prove you know your place.”

Vikram pulled his fingers free. Shailaja sobbed at the emptiness.

“Stand up, Karthik,” Vikram ordered into the phone. “Strip naked. Kneel on the living-room floor in front of

your phone camera. Hands behind your back. Cock out and leaking. Look straight into the lens so I can see

the shame in your eyes while I fuck your wife.”

Rustling fabric. A soft thud of knees on carpet.

“I’m… I’m kneeling,” Karthik whispered, voice thick with humiliation.

Vikram tapped his screen.

The monitor flared to life.

There was Karthik — naked, kneeling, cock rigid and dripping pre-cum onto the carpet, hands locked behind

him, face burning red, eyes glassy with need and degradation.

Vikram laughed — low, satisfied.

“Pathetic. But obedient. Good.”

He turned back to Shailaja.

Picked up the first ice cube from the bowl.

Held it above her navel.

First drop of meltwater fell into the deep hollow.

She hissed. Haaaaa

Then he pressed the entire cube into that perfect oval.

The cold hit like a slap.

Her stomach convulsed. Goosebumps erupted everywhere. A sharp, shocked scream ripped from her —

“AAAAAHHHHHH!”

Vikram fucked her navel with the ice — slow circles, in and out, twisting it like a frozen cock while meltwater

ran in icy trails down her sides.

Her screams turned frantic — high-pitched, shuddering: “Cold… so cold… AHHH… AHHHH… PLEASE…!”

He dragged the melting cube upward.

Between her breasts.

Over one nipple — circling the areola until it shrivelled painfully tight.

She arched violently, screaming louder — a continuous, broken wail.

Then the other nipple.

He pressed harder.

She shrieked — raw, throat-scbanging — tears streaming now.

Downward again.

He parted her swollen folds.

Placed the half-melted cube directly on her clit.

The contrast against her burning heat was devastating.

She exploded into the loudest scream yet — piercing, endless: “NOOOOOO… AHHHHHHHHHH… TOO COLD…

TOO MUCH… AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Vikram rubbed the ice mercilessly — tight, fast circles over her clit while two fingers plunged back inside her,

chasing the cold deeper.

Her entire body shook — thighs quivering, hips bucking uncontrollably.

He took a fresh, larger cube.

Pushed it slowly — inexorably — inside her pussy.

Inch by frozen inch.

Her inner walls clenched desperately around the intrusion.

She screamed again — long, guttural, rising to a shattering crescendo: “DEEP… INSIDE… COLD… AHHHHHHH…

IT’S MELTING INSIDE ME… AAAAAAHHHH!”

He fucked her with his fingers around the ice — pushing it deeper, twisting, until it vanished completely and

only freezing water leaked out around his knuckles, mixing with her arousal.