14-03-2026, 04:17 PM
Chapter 7 : Further More Truths
John nodded—“I’ve done worse—she’s clueless.”
He leaned back against the chipped desk, whiskey glass glinting in his hand like a trophy he hadn’t yet earned. The room’s single bulb cast harsh shadows across his face, sharpening the smirk that never quite left his lips. His voice dropped low, thick with the kind of memory that made men lean in closer, even when they hated what they were hearing.
“Last annual function,” he began, swirling the amber liquid slowly. “She was carrying the plate for the chief guest—saree the colour of fresh cream, pallu slipping just enough to show the dip of her waist. I followed her to the principal’s room. Quiet.
She didn’t hear the door click shut behind me.”
He paused, eyes half-lidded, reliving it.
“Slipped a little powder into her water glass while she arranged the tray—nothing heavy, just enough to make her dizzy, make her legs give out. She swayed, hand on the table, confused. I caught her before she hit the floor—carried her to the old sofa in the corner. Laid her down like she weighed nothing. Her breathing was slow,
shallow… lips parted just enough.”
John’s free hand flexed unconsciously, as though feeling the memory in his palm.
I waited for 20 mins for her to completely lose movement and consious..
“I kissed her breast first—right through the blouse. The fabric was thin, warm from her skin. I could feel the nipple harden under my tongue even though she was half-gone. Unhooked two buttons—slow, careful—let those heavy 34D tits spill out into the cool air. Dark areolas, stiff peaks begging. I sucked one hard, rolled it between my teeth until it swelled even more. She moaned—soft, unconscious, but real. Her body knew what her mind couldn’t fight.”
Kiran shifted, throat working visibly. Sam stayed perfectly still, cigarette forgotten between his fingers.
John continued, voice dropping to a husky murmur.
“Fondled them both—kneaded like dough, thumbs circling the nipples until they were red and aching. She arched a little—instinct, not consent. Then I stood up, unzipped. Rubbed my cock across her face—slow drags, smearing pre-cum over her cheek, her lips. She was out, but her mouth opened wider when the head brushed it. I almost lost it. Wanted to fuck her throat until she choked awake.” But the medicine would take only few hours of impact
He exhaled hard through his nose.
“I decide to fuck her first, i was about to push inside her—had her saree hiked to her thighs, legs parted, her panties already damp from whatever her body was dreaming—when something fell.
A metal tray, maybe—crashed behind me. I panicked. Too dark, too close to the hall.
I ran. Zipped up, fixed my shirt, slipped back into the function like nothing happened. When I looked again… she was gone. Vanished. I thought she’d woken up, stumbled out, remembered fragments. Feared she’d scream for help. But nothing. No complaint. No cop. Just… distance. She cut me off completely after that night. I feard she realised it was me who does something bad she could not remember.
She Only spoke when forced. Looked at me like she knew exactly what I’d tried to do.”
Kiran’s jaw hung slack. “Should’ve recorded it. Blackmailed her into spreading those legs willingly.”
John shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his mouth. “No. I want her awake. Want her to look me in the eye while I take what she’s denied me for years. No shortcuts. No drugs next time. She’ll come to me because she has no choice—or because she finally breaks and wants it.”
Sam grinned wider, cigarette ash falling unnoticed onto the floor.
“VIP wants her too—that iconic politico she silenced last year. The one who sent her those disgusting texts and she threatened to expose. She thinks no one can take her. Let’s prove her wrong.”
He leaned forward, eyes glittering.
“We’ve got the ai videos to break Rahul if he ever crawls back. We’ve got the recordings of him saying ‘do it’ on call. Once he gives the green light—even half-drunk, half-dead—he’s complicit. We barge in, take turns on her melons, her mouth, her cunt—make her scream our names. If she fights, we leak the clips. If she’s smart… she learns to spread for us every week. Clean win. Rahul loses his wife, we gain a toy, and Anandhi learns her place.”
John raised his glass in mock toast.
“To fresh meat.”
Kiran chuckled low.
Sam’s grin turned feral.
Rahul/Jeeva stood motionless at the side window, phone capturing every word, every filthy laugh, every detail of the conspiracy that had almost destroyed his life.
His blood didn’t just boil.
It ignited.
Anandhi hadn’t cheated.
She’d was their target, they wanted to hunt her.
She was Drugged. Molested. Targeted.
And these men—his so-called friends—had turned her refusal into their vendetta.
The videos were lies.
The betrayal was theirs.
His new body thrummed—heart hammering, cock still traitorously hard from the earlier clips, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.
Eighty-nine days.
Day 4 ticking.
Jeeva told himself its time for the Action Mode.
John nodded—“I’ve done worse—she’s clueless.”
He leaned back against the chipped desk, whiskey glass glinting in his hand like a trophy he hadn’t yet earned. The room’s single bulb cast harsh shadows across his face, sharpening the smirk that never quite left his lips. His voice dropped low, thick with the kind of memory that made men lean in closer, even when they hated what they were hearing.
“Last annual function,” he began, swirling the amber liquid slowly. “She was carrying the plate for the chief guest—saree the colour of fresh cream, pallu slipping just enough to show the dip of her waist. I followed her to the principal’s room. Quiet.
She didn’t hear the door click shut behind me.”
He paused, eyes half-lidded, reliving it.
“Slipped a little powder into her water glass while she arranged the tray—nothing heavy, just enough to make her dizzy, make her legs give out. She swayed, hand on the table, confused. I caught her before she hit the floor—carried her to the old sofa in the corner. Laid her down like she weighed nothing. Her breathing was slow,
shallow… lips parted just enough.”
John’s free hand flexed unconsciously, as though feeling the memory in his palm.
I waited for 20 mins for her to completely lose movement and consious..
“I kissed her breast first—right through the blouse. The fabric was thin, warm from her skin. I could feel the nipple harden under my tongue even though she was half-gone. Unhooked two buttons—slow, careful—let those heavy 34D tits spill out into the cool air. Dark areolas, stiff peaks begging. I sucked one hard, rolled it between my teeth until it swelled even more. She moaned—soft, unconscious, but real. Her body knew what her mind couldn’t fight.”
Kiran shifted, throat working visibly. Sam stayed perfectly still, cigarette forgotten between his fingers.
John continued, voice dropping to a husky murmur.
“Fondled them both—kneaded like dough, thumbs circling the nipples until they were red and aching. She arched a little—instinct, not consent. Then I stood up, unzipped. Rubbed my cock across her face—slow drags, smearing pre-cum over her cheek, her lips. She was out, but her mouth opened wider when the head brushed it. I almost lost it. Wanted to fuck her throat until she choked awake.” But the medicine would take only few hours of impact
He exhaled hard through his nose.
“I decide to fuck her first, i was about to push inside her—had her saree hiked to her thighs, legs parted, her panties already damp from whatever her body was dreaming—when something fell.
A metal tray, maybe—crashed behind me. I panicked. Too dark, too close to the hall.
I ran. Zipped up, fixed my shirt, slipped back into the function like nothing happened. When I looked again… she was gone. Vanished. I thought she’d woken up, stumbled out, remembered fragments. Feared she’d scream for help. But nothing. No complaint. No cop. Just… distance. She cut me off completely after that night. I feard she realised it was me who does something bad she could not remember.
She Only spoke when forced. Looked at me like she knew exactly what I’d tried to do.”
Kiran’s jaw hung slack. “Should’ve recorded it. Blackmailed her into spreading those legs willingly.”
John shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his mouth. “No. I want her awake. Want her to look me in the eye while I take what she’s denied me for years. No shortcuts. No drugs next time. She’ll come to me because she has no choice—or because she finally breaks and wants it.”
Sam grinned wider, cigarette ash falling unnoticed onto the floor.
“VIP wants her too—that iconic politico she silenced last year. The one who sent her those disgusting texts and she threatened to expose. She thinks no one can take her. Let’s prove her wrong.”
He leaned forward, eyes glittering.
“We’ve got the ai videos to break Rahul if he ever crawls back. We’ve got the recordings of him saying ‘do it’ on call. Once he gives the green light—even half-drunk, half-dead—he’s complicit. We barge in, take turns on her melons, her mouth, her cunt—make her scream our names. If she fights, we leak the clips. If she’s smart… she learns to spread for us every week. Clean win. Rahul loses his wife, we gain a toy, and Anandhi learns her place.”
John raised his glass in mock toast.
“To fresh meat.”
Kiran chuckled low.
Sam’s grin turned feral.
Rahul/Jeeva stood motionless at the side window, phone capturing every word, every filthy laugh, every detail of the conspiracy that had almost destroyed his life.
His blood didn’t just boil.
It ignited.
Anandhi hadn’t cheated.
She’d was their target, they wanted to hunt her.
She was Drugged. Molested. Targeted.
And these men—his so-called friends—had turned her refusal into their vendetta.
The videos were lies.
The betrayal was theirs.
His new body thrummed—heart hammering, cock still traitorously hard from the earlier clips, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.
Eighty-nine days.
Day 4 ticking.
Jeeva told himself its time for the Action Mode.
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