15-03-2026, 01:29 AM
"*More*," she heard herself whimper, the word slipping out before she could bite it back. The men erupted into laughter, their hands tightening possessively on her flesh.
Ravi Sr. dragged her up by the hair, forcing her onto her knees. His cock glistened with her saliva as he tapped it against her flushed cheeks. "Say it properly," he demanded, his other hand sliding down to pinch her nipple hard.
Ayesha's breath hitched, her thighs pressing together instinctively—only for Bilal to wedge his knee between them, forcing them apart again. The butcher's boy's fingers found her clit again, rubbing in tight circles that made her hips jerk.
"P-please," she stammered, her voice raw. "*Fuck me.*"
The attic erupted into cheers. Javed unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other gripping her hair to yank her head back. "Which hole, *jaan*?"
Ayesha's mouth went dry. She shouldn't—*couldn't*—but her body was already leaning forward, her tongue darting out to lick a stripe up Ravi's shaft. The camera flashed again, capturing the exact moment her resolve shattered—her lips parting, her throat opening as Ravi shoved himself back in to the hilt.
Behind her, Bilal groaned, his thrusts turning erratic. "Gonna fill this cunt," he grunted, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. "Make sure you remember who *owns* it."
Ayesha's moan vibrated around Ravi's cock as Bilal's release flooded her, hot and thick, her inner walls fluttering around him greedily. The butcher's boy didn't let up on her clit, his fingers working her through the oversensitivity until she was gasping, her thighs shaking with the need for another release.
Javed's cock replaced his fingers at her other entrance, the head pressing against her tight ring of muscle. "Breathe, *jaan*," he murmured, his gold tooth glinting as he smirked down at her.
Ayesha's body went rigid—but when the butcher's boy pinched her clit hard, her resistance melted into a broken sob. Her back arched, her hips pushing back onto Javed's cock even as her mind screamed *no*. The stretch was unbearable, the burn white-hot as he sank inch by inch into her tight channel.
Ravi Sr. pulled out of her mouth just in time for the camera to catch her scream as Javed's cock split her open in one brutal thrust. The Polaroid developed in slow motion—her mouth stretched around Ravi's shaft, her back arched obscenely, her fingers clawing at rice sacks while her body *welcomed* the invasion. What the photo couldn't capture was the way her cunt fluttered around Bilal's softening cock, still spurting inside her, or the butcher's boy's fingers working her clit in rough circles that forced another orgasm from her trembling body.
Javed's gold tooth glinted as he bottomed out, his hips flush against her ass. "Tighter than your cunt," he marveled, rolling his pelvis to watch her muscles struggle to accommodate him. Ayesha's sob caught in her throat when Ravi shoved back in, her gag reflex long since overridden by the relentless stretch of him. The butcher's boy chuckled darkly, lifting his wet fingers to her lips. "Taste yourself," he ordered, smearing her slick across her mouth. Her tongue darted out instinctively, lapping at the salty-bitter proof of her betrayal.
Bilal withdrew with a wet sound, his spend dripping onto the burlap. "Turn her over," he panted, wiping his cock on her thigh. Hands flipped her onto her back, the rough sacks scbanging her shoulders. Javed never left her ass, his thrusts turning shallow as they maneuvered her legs over his shoulders. The butcher's boy crouched between her thighs, his bloody nails spreading her folds to expose the puffy, overstimulated flesh. "Look at this," he breathed, pressing two fingers inside alongside Javed's cock. The stretch burned—*god*, it burned—but her hips lifted off the sacks, seeking more.
Ravi Sr. straddled her face, his balls slapping against her chin. "Clean me," he growled, dragging his cock through the mess on her lips. Ayesha opened obediently, her tongue swirling around the head before taking him deep. The camera flashed again—her legs splayed obscenely around Javed's hips, the butcher's boy's fingers disappearing into her ruined cunt, her mouth stretched taut around Ravi's girth. Bilal's hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. "Beg for my turn," he demanded, slapping his half-hard cock against her cheek.
Ayesha's breath hitched, her body thrumming with oversensitivity. She *should* have been numb. She *should* have fought. But when the butcher's boy crooked his fingers just so, her back arched off the sacks with a broken cry. "*Please*," she gasped, the word tearing from her raw throat. "Please, Bilal—*please*—"
He didn't make her finish. Shoving Ravi aside, Bilal thrust into her mouth with a groan, his fingers tightening in her hair. The butcher's boy added a third finger alongside Javed's cock, the unbearable stretch wringing another orgasm from her exhausted body. Ayesha's scream was muffled by Bilal's thrusts, her thighs trembling as pleasure-pain ricocheted through her.
Javed came first, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside her ass. The butcher's boy withdrew his slick fingers only to replace them with his cock, sinking into her dripping cunt with a satisfied groan. "Fuck," he breathed, his bloody nails digging into her hips. "Like a *furnace*."
Bilal pulled out of her mouth, spitting onto her flushed face. "Your turn, Ravi."
They switched positions like a well-rehearsed dance—Ravi spreading her thighs wide as the butcher's boy withdrew, his thick cock glistening with her arousal. Javed rolled onto his back, dragging Ayesha atop him so she straddled his softening length. "Ride me," he ordered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a handprint.
Ayesha's body moved without conscious thought, her hips grinding down on Javed's cock as Ravi positioned himself at her entrance. The first thrust stole her breath—her overstimulated cunt stretching around him, her inner muscles fluttering in helpless welcome. The butcher's boy knelt beside them, his fingers pinching her nipple hard. "Faster," he growled.
She obeyed, her thighs burning as she rocked between them, Ravi's thrusts driving her down onto Javed's cock with punishing force. The attic spun around her—Bilal's laughter, the camera's flash, the butcher's boy's fingers twisting her nipple until she sobbed. Ravi's pace turned erratic, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. "Gonna fill you up," he grunted, his cock pulsing inside her.
Ayesha came with a shattered scream, her body clamping down on Ravi's cock as her orgasm ripped through her. Behind her, Samar chuckled darkly, his fingers tightening in her hair as he guided her lips back onto his length. "Again," he ordered, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "You're not done, Aunty."
Ravi Sr. dragged her up by the hair, forcing her onto her knees. His cock glistened with her saliva as he tapped it against her flushed cheeks. "Say it properly," he demanded, his other hand sliding down to pinch her nipple hard.
Ayesha's breath hitched, her thighs pressing together instinctively—only for Bilal to wedge his knee between them, forcing them apart again. The butcher's boy's fingers found her clit again, rubbing in tight circles that made her hips jerk.
"P-please," she stammered, her voice raw. "*Fuck me.*"
The attic erupted into cheers. Javed unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other gripping her hair to yank her head back. "Which hole, *jaan*?"
Ayesha's mouth went dry. She shouldn't—*couldn't*—but her body was already leaning forward, her tongue darting out to lick a stripe up Ravi's shaft. The camera flashed again, capturing the exact moment her resolve shattered—her lips parting, her throat opening as Ravi shoved himself back in to the hilt.
Behind her, Bilal groaned, his thrusts turning erratic. "Gonna fill this cunt," he grunted, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. "Make sure you remember who *owns* it."
Ayesha's moan vibrated around Ravi's cock as Bilal's release flooded her, hot and thick, her inner walls fluttering around him greedily. The butcher's boy didn't let up on her clit, his fingers working her through the oversensitivity until she was gasping, her thighs shaking with the need for another release.
Javed's cock replaced his fingers at her other entrance, the head pressing against her tight ring of muscle. "Breathe, *jaan*," he murmured, his gold tooth glinting as he smirked down at her.
Ayesha's body went rigid—but when the butcher's boy pinched her clit hard, her resistance melted into a broken sob. Her back arched, her hips pushing back onto Javed's cock even as her mind screamed *no*. The stretch was unbearable, the burn white-hot as he sank inch by inch into her tight channel.
Ravi Sr. pulled out of her mouth just in time for the camera to catch her scream as Javed's cock split her open in one brutal thrust. The Polaroid developed in slow motion—her mouth stretched around Ravi's shaft, her back arched obscenely, her fingers clawing at rice sacks while her body *welcomed* the invasion. What the photo couldn't capture was the way her cunt fluttered around Bilal's softening cock, still spurting inside her, or the butcher's boy's fingers working her clit in rough circles that forced another orgasm from her trembling body.
Javed's gold tooth glinted as he bottomed out, his hips flush against her ass. "Tighter than your cunt," he marveled, rolling his pelvis to watch her muscles struggle to accommodate him. Ayesha's sob caught in her throat when Ravi shoved back in, her gag reflex long since overridden by the relentless stretch of him. The butcher's boy chuckled darkly, lifting his wet fingers to her lips. "Taste yourself," he ordered, smearing her slick across her mouth. Her tongue darted out instinctively, lapping at the salty-bitter proof of her betrayal.
Bilal withdrew with a wet sound, his spend dripping onto the burlap. "Turn her over," he panted, wiping his cock on her thigh. Hands flipped her onto her back, the rough sacks scbanging her shoulders. Javed never left her ass, his thrusts turning shallow as they maneuvered her legs over his shoulders. The butcher's boy crouched between her thighs, his bloody nails spreading her folds to expose the puffy, overstimulated flesh. "Look at this," he breathed, pressing two fingers inside alongside Javed's cock. The stretch burned—*god*, it burned—but her hips lifted off the sacks, seeking more.
Ravi Sr. straddled her face, his balls slapping against her chin. "Clean me," he growled, dragging his cock through the mess on her lips. Ayesha opened obediently, her tongue swirling around the head before taking him deep. The camera flashed again—her legs splayed obscenely around Javed's hips, the butcher's boy's fingers disappearing into her ruined cunt, her mouth stretched taut around Ravi's girth. Bilal's hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat. "Beg for my turn," he demanded, slapping his half-hard cock against her cheek.
Ayesha's breath hitched, her body thrumming with oversensitivity. She *should* have been numb. She *should* have fought. But when the butcher's boy crooked his fingers just so, her back arched off the sacks with a broken cry. "*Please*," she gasped, the word tearing from her raw throat. "Please, Bilal—*please*—"
He didn't make her finish. Shoving Ravi aside, Bilal thrust into her mouth with a groan, his fingers tightening in her hair. The butcher's boy added a third finger alongside Javed's cock, the unbearable stretch wringing another orgasm from her exhausted body. Ayesha's scream was muffled by Bilal's thrusts, her thighs trembling as pleasure-pain ricocheted through her.
Javed came first, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside her ass. The butcher's boy withdrew his slick fingers only to replace them with his cock, sinking into her dripping cunt with a satisfied groan. "Fuck," he breathed, his bloody nails digging into her hips. "Like a *furnace*."
Bilal pulled out of her mouth, spitting onto her flushed face. "Your turn, Ravi."
They switched positions like a well-rehearsed dance—Ravi spreading her thighs wide as the butcher's boy withdrew, his thick cock glistening with her arousal. Javed rolled onto his back, dragging Ayesha atop him so she straddled his softening length. "Ride me," he ordered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a handprint.
Ayesha's body moved without conscious thought, her hips grinding down on Javed's cock as Ravi positioned himself at her entrance. The first thrust stole her breath—her overstimulated cunt stretching around him, her inner muscles fluttering in helpless welcome. The butcher's boy knelt beside them, his fingers pinching her nipple hard. "Faster," he growled.
She obeyed, her thighs burning as she rocked between them, Ravi's thrusts driving her down onto Javed's cock with punishing force. The attic spun around her—Bilal's laughter, the camera's flash, the butcher's boy's fingers twisting her nipple until she sobbed. Ravi's pace turned erratic, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. "Gonna fill you up," he grunted, his cock pulsing inside her.
Ayesha came with a shattered scream, her body clamping down on Ravi's cock as her orgasm ripped through her. Behind her, Samar chuckled darkly, his fingers tightening in her hair as he guided her lips back onto his length. "Again," he ordered, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "You're not done, Aunty."
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