13-05-2026, 02:40 AM
Chapter 10: The Car Meeting
Ambika’s voice was crisp and authoritative over the phone the previous night.
“Sanjana, be ready by 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning. We have an important meetup regarding your college seat. And dress well… something presentable.”
Sanjana’s heart skipped with relief. Finally, something was moving on her admission. She had barely slept, tossing between hope and nervousness, but by morning she was up early, showered, and carefully chose her outfit — a pair of tight blue jeans that hugged her curves perfectly and a fitted sleeveless black t-shirt that showed off her toned arms and youthful figure. She looked fresh, pretty, and a little bolder than usual.
Ambika, waiting downstairs, gave her a quick once-over and nodded approvingly. She herself was dressed in an elegant sleeveless saree — deep maroon with a subtle golden border — that accentuated her mature, fit body. The two women left the house and reached the Rathore residence by 9 AM.
Mr. Rathore was already dressed in a sharp formal shirt and trousers, clearly preparing for a flight. The moment his eyes landed on Sanjana, they lingered a second longer than necessary. She looked stunning in that tight jeans and sleeveless top — fresh-faced, sexy in a youthful way that made Ambika’s more sophisticated saree look almost secondary. Ambika immediately sensed the shift in his gaze. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face.
She tried to keep the conversation short and professional.
“Mr. Rathore, thank you for making time. About Sanjana’s seat—”
But Rathore cut in smoothly, checking his watch.
“I’m getting late for my flight. Can we talk in the car? I’ll drop you both on the way to the airport. It’s only an hour from here.”
Ambika hesitated, clearly wanting to avoid getting into a private conversation in a moving vehicle.
“No, it’s fine… we can do this quickly here—”
Rathore was already moving toward his luxurious SUV — a high-end caravan-style vehicle with tinted windows, plush leather seats, mini-bar, and enough space to feel like a small lounge on wheels.
“Come on, don’t waste time. Get in.”
Before Ambika could protest further, he gently but firmly guided them. Sanjana was told to get in first, then Rathore followed, and finally Ambika was pulled in next to him. The door closed with a soft, expensive thud. The car purred to life and smoothly rolled out of the driveway.
Both women were momentarily awed by the interior — it felt more like a private jet than a car — but there was also a quiet tension, especially for Ambika. She sat stiffly beside Rathore, while Sanjana sat across, trying to look composed.
Rathore leaned back comfortably and smiled.
“So… tell me about the seat issue.”
Meanwhile, back at the house:
Ravi had already left early for an official enquiry related to a corruption case. Aisha was off to college as usual. Priya had just finished her morning chores and was now sitting in her room, thinking of a polished, helpful way to support Ambika without seeming too obvious or eager. She picked up her phone and typed a simple, innocent text:
**Priya:** Hi di Ambika … Hope the house Vacating arrangement is going well. Let me know if you need any help from my side. I’m free today. ?
---
Inside the luxurious moving caravan, the conversation had just started.
Rathore leaned back comfortably in the spacious seat, one arm casually dbangd around Ambika’s shoulders like she was his wife. His fingers rested lightly on her bare sleeveless arm, slowly stroking her smooth skin. With his other hand, he gestured toward Sanjana.
“So… tell me about the seat issue,” he said, his voice smooth and relaxed, eyes clearly appreciating the young woman sitting across from him.
Sanjana shifted slightly in her tight jeans, feeling his gaze on her. She started explaining nervously — the low cutoff marks, the management quota complications, and how difficult it had become. As she spoke, Rathore’s eyes kept drifting to her full lips and the way they moved. She looked fresh, fit, and youthful — quite different from Ambika’s mature elegance. He liked what he saw.
Ambika was already tense. Only ten minutes had passed, and there were still nearly fifty minutes until they reached the airport. Every second felt stretched. She knew Rathore too well — his calm tone right now was just the opening move. She could sense his growing interest in Sanjana. Trying to divert him, she quickly jumped into the conversation.
“Sir, actually the main problem is with her mark and the college is a reputed one. Last year they had only 12 management seats and—”
Rathore nodded politely but barely looked at her. Instead, he turned back to Sanjana with a charming smile.
“You’re looking quite confident today. That sleeveless top suits you well.”
As he spoke, his right hand casually reached forward and tapped Sanjana’s thigh lightly, as if emphasizing a point. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary, his fingers brushing the tight denim. Sanjana stiffened but forced a small smile, remembering Ambika’s strict warning from that morning: *“Don’t get too close to him. Say only what you need to say. Don’t share your personal number or anything. I’m telling you this for your own good.”*
Rathore’s left hand, meanwhile, pulled Ambika a little closer, his palm now resting possessively on her waist, fingers tracing small circles over her saree blouse. To any outsider, they looked like a close couple. But Sanjana was slowly piecing it together. The special car, the easy access, the way her elder sister was letting him touch her so freely… this wasn’t just “help from a friend.” Ambika was clearly in some kind of relationship or arrangement with this powerful man. The realization made her uncomfortable, yet she stayed quiet.
Rathore inhaled deeply, enjoying the mixed perfume of both women in the enclosed space — Ambika’s mature, seductive scent and Sanjana’s fresh, youthful one. The sight of two attractive women in sleeveless outfits sitting with him was clearly tempting him. His touches grew slightly bolder — another tap on Sanjana’s thigh, this time a little higher, while his arm around Ambika tightened.
Ambika’s nervousness was rising. She could see the hunger slowly building in Rathore’s eyes. Once he got properly tempted, it was almost impossible to stop him. She kept trying to steer the talk back to the college seat, asking questions and adding details, but Rathore answered casually while his attention stayed mostly on Sanjana.
“You have nice, expressive lips when you talk,” he said directly to the younger girl with a smirk. “Must be good at convincing people.”
Sanjana blushed and looked down. Ambika’s heart beat faster. She gently placed her hand on Rathore’s thigh, trying to engage him physically so he wouldn’t focus entirely on Sanjana, but it wasn’t working. His eyes kept returning to the fit curves in those tight jeans.
Suddenly — *Ping!*
Ambika’s phone lit up on the seat beside her. She glanced at the screen just enough to see Priya’s name and the message preview.
**Priya:** Hi di Ambika … Hope the house Vacating arrangement is going well. Let me know if you need any help from my side. I’m free today. ?
She couldn’t risk opening or replying to it right now. Not with Rathore in this mood. She quickly silenced the phone and pushed it aside, her stomach tightening.
Rathore noticed the small distraction but only smiled lazily.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his hand sliding a little further up Sanjana’s thigh this time, testing.
As he spoke, his right hand reached forward and rested tightly on her knee, stayed there a moment too long. Sanjana felt really weird but not sure what to do and didn’t pull away. Instead she was looking at ambika.
Ambika’s stomach tightened. She could see exactly what was happening — Rathore was slowly trying to get close to Sanjana, being nice and charming on the surface while his touches tested the waters. She knew better than anyone how dangerous that charm could become. It was better if she diverted his attention to herself, even if Sanjana found it strange. At least she could handle him… or so she hoped.
“Sir, ,” Ambika quickly interjected, leaning closer into his side, pressing her body against him deliberately. Rathore’s ignored ambika his hand moved from Sanjana’s knee and slid back to Ambika’s waist, pulling her even tighter. But his eyes kept drifting back to the younger woman.
“You’re quite fit, Sanjana. Do you work out regularly? It shows,” he said with a playful wink, completely ignoring Ambika’s attempt for a second.
His fingers gave Ambika’s side a possessive squeeze — a silent reminder that he owned her — while continuing to flirt lightly with Sanjana.
Ambika forced a smile and tried harder to pull his focus. She placed her hand on his thigh, stroking it gently, even letting her fingers brush higher. “Why don’t I tell you more about the exact requirements, Sir? Sanjana is a bit nervous…”
But Rathore only chuckled softly, enjoying the attention from both women in their sleeveless outfits, their perfumes mixing deliciously in the enclosed space. He was clearly getting tempted, and Ambika’s anxiety grew with every passing minute. There were still around 45 minutes left to the airport.
Rathore was still in his flirtatious mode, his arm possessively around Ambika while his eyes and occasional light touches kept testing Sanjana. The conversation flowed casually for a few more minutes.
Then, without any warning or shame, Rathore shifted slightly in his seat and let out a loud, unapologetic fart. The sound was sharp and wet — *Prrrrrrrrt* — echoing clearly in the sealed, air-conditioned space. A thick, warm, pungent smell quickly filled the cabin, heavy with the odor of digested food and masculine musk.
Sanjana froze. Her eyes widened in pure shock and disgust. The smell hit her nose strongly, making her stomach churn. She couldn’t control her reaction — her nose wrinkled sharply, her lips parted in revulsion, and she let out a small, involuntary gasp followed by a soft “Eww…” as she instinctively turned her face toward the tinted window, trying to breathe fresher air. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her own reaction, but the disgusting, lingering stench made her feel genuinely nauseous. She had never been in such a situation — a powerful man casually farting like this in front of them felt utterly weird, degrading, and repulsive.
Rathore’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. The charming, flirtatious smile vanished. His face hardened into cold anger, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stared directly at Sanjana. The temperature in the car seemed to drop. He hated any sign of disrespect, especially something like this.
Ambika’s heart sank like a stone. She knew that look far too well. A rush of humiliating memories flooded her mind in vivid, dirty detail:
- The time he had pinned her naked on the floor of his farmhouse, sat his full weight on her face, and unleashed a series of long, wet farts directly into her open mouth for forty-five minutes straight, slapping her tits hard whenever she dared to gag or turn away.
- Another night when he forced her to press her tongue deep between his sweaty, hairy ass cheeks and thoroughly clean his unwashed asshole after he had skipped showering for two days — making her describe the taste out loud while he recorded it.
- The most degrading one: after she once complained about inhaling the smell, he had made her kneel in his bathroom, pissed into a glass, made her to lick him clean including his assholes, and he named her as his personal toilet.
He was ruthless and creative when his dominance was challenged. Ambika knew Sanjana had just triggered that side.
Before Rathore could explode, Ambika jumped in desperately, her voice soft, submissive, and pleading. She leaned closer into him, placing one hand on his chest soothingly while the other gently squeezed Sanjana’s knee under the console, silently begging her sister to stay quiet.
“Sir… please forgive her. She’s just a young, innocent girl. She didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m really, really sorry on her behalf. I should have prepared her better. Please, Sir… don’t get angry.”
Rathore didn’t even glance at Ambika at first. His cold, furious eyes stayed locked on Sanjana, who was now looking terrified, tears already welling up in her eyes. His jaw clenched tightly.
Then he suddenly shouted, his voice booming and harsh inside the expensive car:
“You should teach her fucking everything when you bring her here, you worthless asshole! How many times do I have to tell you this? One needs to learn basic respect and manners before stepping into my fucking space! Stupid bitches!”
Ambika flinched hard at the vulgar words, her face burning with deep embarrassment. Being shouted at and insulted like this in front of her own younger sister was utterly humiliating. She felt exposed — Sanjana was now clearly sensing the twisted reality of their “relationship.” This wasn’t just help from a powerful friend. Ambika was owned by this man, and the way she was pleading so submissively made that painfully obvious.
Sanjana sat frozen, tears slipping down her cheeks. The pieces were falling into place — her sister’s warnings that morning, the possessive touches, the way Ambika was letting him treat her… everything felt sickeningly clear now.
Rathore leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping but still dripping with controlled rage and authority.
“Both of you… fix your fucking attitudes when you are in my space. Or this meeting ends here get out of the car now, and you can forget about any PG seat, any help, anything. Understood?”
Ambika swallowed hard, nodding quickly, her hand still resting on Sanjana’s knee, silently urging her to comply. The heavy, pungent smell still lingered in the air, making everything feel even more degrading.
The car continued gliding smoothly toward the airport, but the atmosphere inside had turned thick with tension and fear.
---
Priya’s message remained unread on Ambika’s phone.
Ambika’s voice was crisp and authoritative over the phone the previous night.
“Sanjana, be ready by 7:30 sharp tomorrow morning. We have an important meetup regarding your college seat. And dress well… something presentable.”
Sanjana’s heart skipped with relief. Finally, something was moving on her admission. She had barely slept, tossing between hope and nervousness, but by morning she was up early, showered, and carefully chose her outfit — a pair of tight blue jeans that hugged her curves perfectly and a fitted sleeveless black t-shirt that showed off her toned arms and youthful figure. She looked fresh, pretty, and a little bolder than usual.
Ambika, waiting downstairs, gave her a quick once-over and nodded approvingly. She herself was dressed in an elegant sleeveless saree — deep maroon with a subtle golden border — that accentuated her mature, fit body. The two women left the house and reached the Rathore residence by 9 AM.
Mr. Rathore was already dressed in a sharp formal shirt and trousers, clearly preparing for a flight. The moment his eyes landed on Sanjana, they lingered a second longer than necessary. She looked stunning in that tight jeans and sleeveless top — fresh-faced, sexy in a youthful way that made Ambika’s more sophisticated saree look almost secondary. Ambika immediately sensed the shift in his gaze. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face.
She tried to keep the conversation short and professional.
“Mr. Rathore, thank you for making time. About Sanjana’s seat—”
But Rathore cut in smoothly, checking his watch.
“I’m getting late for my flight. Can we talk in the car? I’ll drop you both on the way to the airport. It’s only an hour from here.”
Ambika hesitated, clearly wanting to avoid getting into a private conversation in a moving vehicle.
“No, it’s fine… we can do this quickly here—”
Rathore was already moving toward his luxurious SUV — a high-end caravan-style vehicle with tinted windows, plush leather seats, mini-bar, and enough space to feel like a small lounge on wheels.
“Come on, don’t waste time. Get in.”
Before Ambika could protest further, he gently but firmly guided them. Sanjana was told to get in first, then Rathore followed, and finally Ambika was pulled in next to him. The door closed with a soft, expensive thud. The car purred to life and smoothly rolled out of the driveway.
Both women were momentarily awed by the interior — it felt more like a private jet than a car — but there was also a quiet tension, especially for Ambika. She sat stiffly beside Rathore, while Sanjana sat across, trying to look composed.
Rathore leaned back comfortably and smiled.
“So… tell me about the seat issue.”
Meanwhile, back at the house:
Ravi had already left early for an official enquiry related to a corruption case. Aisha was off to college as usual. Priya had just finished her morning chores and was now sitting in her room, thinking of a polished, helpful way to support Ambika without seeming too obvious or eager. She picked up her phone and typed a simple, innocent text:
**Priya:** Hi di Ambika … Hope the house Vacating arrangement is going well. Let me know if you need any help from my side. I’m free today. ?
---
Inside the luxurious moving caravan, the conversation had just started.
Rathore leaned back comfortably in the spacious seat, one arm casually dbangd around Ambika’s shoulders like she was his wife. His fingers rested lightly on her bare sleeveless arm, slowly stroking her smooth skin. With his other hand, he gestured toward Sanjana.
“So… tell me about the seat issue,” he said, his voice smooth and relaxed, eyes clearly appreciating the young woman sitting across from him.
Sanjana shifted slightly in her tight jeans, feeling his gaze on her. She started explaining nervously — the low cutoff marks, the management quota complications, and how difficult it had become. As she spoke, Rathore’s eyes kept drifting to her full lips and the way they moved. She looked fresh, fit, and youthful — quite different from Ambika’s mature elegance. He liked what he saw.
Ambika was already tense. Only ten minutes had passed, and there were still nearly fifty minutes until they reached the airport. Every second felt stretched. She knew Rathore too well — his calm tone right now was just the opening move. She could sense his growing interest in Sanjana. Trying to divert him, she quickly jumped into the conversation.
“Sir, actually the main problem is with her mark and the college is a reputed one. Last year they had only 12 management seats and—”
Rathore nodded politely but barely looked at her. Instead, he turned back to Sanjana with a charming smile.
“You’re looking quite confident today. That sleeveless top suits you well.”
As he spoke, his right hand casually reached forward and tapped Sanjana’s thigh lightly, as if emphasizing a point. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary, his fingers brushing the tight denim. Sanjana stiffened but forced a small smile, remembering Ambika’s strict warning from that morning: *“Don’t get too close to him. Say only what you need to say. Don’t share your personal number or anything. I’m telling you this for your own good.”*
Rathore’s left hand, meanwhile, pulled Ambika a little closer, his palm now resting possessively on her waist, fingers tracing small circles over her saree blouse. To any outsider, they looked like a close couple. But Sanjana was slowly piecing it together. The special car, the easy access, the way her elder sister was letting him touch her so freely… this wasn’t just “help from a friend.” Ambika was clearly in some kind of relationship or arrangement with this powerful man. The realization made her uncomfortable, yet she stayed quiet.
Rathore inhaled deeply, enjoying the mixed perfume of both women in the enclosed space — Ambika’s mature, seductive scent and Sanjana’s fresh, youthful one. The sight of two attractive women in sleeveless outfits sitting with him was clearly tempting him. His touches grew slightly bolder — another tap on Sanjana’s thigh, this time a little higher, while his arm around Ambika tightened.
Ambika’s nervousness was rising. She could see the hunger slowly building in Rathore’s eyes. Once he got properly tempted, it was almost impossible to stop him. She kept trying to steer the talk back to the college seat, asking questions and adding details, but Rathore answered casually while his attention stayed mostly on Sanjana.
“You have nice, expressive lips when you talk,” he said directly to the younger girl with a smirk. “Must be good at convincing people.”
Sanjana blushed and looked down. Ambika’s heart beat faster. She gently placed her hand on Rathore’s thigh, trying to engage him physically so he wouldn’t focus entirely on Sanjana, but it wasn’t working. His eyes kept returning to the fit curves in those tight jeans.
Suddenly — *Ping!*
Ambika’s phone lit up on the seat beside her. She glanced at the screen just enough to see Priya’s name and the message preview.
**Priya:** Hi di Ambika … Hope the house Vacating arrangement is going well. Let me know if you need any help from my side. I’m free today. ?
She couldn’t risk opening or replying to it right now. Not with Rathore in this mood. She quickly silenced the phone and pushed it aside, her stomach tightening.
Rathore noticed the small distraction but only smiled lazily.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his hand sliding a little further up Sanjana’s thigh this time, testing.
As he spoke, his right hand reached forward and rested tightly on her knee, stayed there a moment too long. Sanjana felt really weird but not sure what to do and didn’t pull away. Instead she was looking at ambika.
Ambika’s stomach tightened. She could see exactly what was happening — Rathore was slowly trying to get close to Sanjana, being nice and charming on the surface while his touches tested the waters. She knew better than anyone how dangerous that charm could become. It was better if she diverted his attention to herself, even if Sanjana found it strange. At least she could handle him… or so she hoped.
“Sir, ,” Ambika quickly interjected, leaning closer into his side, pressing her body against him deliberately. Rathore’s ignored ambika his hand moved from Sanjana’s knee and slid back to Ambika’s waist, pulling her even tighter. But his eyes kept drifting back to the younger woman.
“You’re quite fit, Sanjana. Do you work out regularly? It shows,” he said with a playful wink, completely ignoring Ambika’s attempt for a second.
His fingers gave Ambika’s side a possessive squeeze — a silent reminder that he owned her — while continuing to flirt lightly with Sanjana.
Ambika forced a smile and tried harder to pull his focus. She placed her hand on his thigh, stroking it gently, even letting her fingers brush higher. “Why don’t I tell you more about the exact requirements, Sir? Sanjana is a bit nervous…”
But Rathore only chuckled softly, enjoying the attention from both women in their sleeveless outfits, their perfumes mixing deliciously in the enclosed space. He was clearly getting tempted, and Ambika’s anxiety grew with every passing minute. There were still around 45 minutes left to the airport.
Rathore was still in his flirtatious mode, his arm possessively around Ambika while his eyes and occasional light touches kept testing Sanjana. The conversation flowed casually for a few more minutes.
Then, without any warning or shame, Rathore shifted slightly in his seat and let out a loud, unapologetic fart. The sound was sharp and wet — *Prrrrrrrrt* — echoing clearly in the sealed, air-conditioned space. A thick, warm, pungent smell quickly filled the cabin, heavy with the odor of digested food and masculine musk.
Sanjana froze. Her eyes widened in pure shock and disgust. The smell hit her nose strongly, making her stomach churn. She couldn’t control her reaction — her nose wrinkled sharply, her lips parted in revulsion, and she let out a small, involuntary gasp followed by a soft “Eww…” as she instinctively turned her face toward the tinted window, trying to breathe fresher air. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her own reaction, but the disgusting, lingering stench made her feel genuinely nauseous. She had never been in such a situation — a powerful man casually farting like this in front of them felt utterly weird, degrading, and repulsive.
Rathore’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. The charming, flirtatious smile vanished. His face hardened into cold anger, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stared directly at Sanjana. The temperature in the car seemed to drop. He hated any sign of disrespect, especially something like this.
Ambika’s heart sank like a stone. She knew that look far too well. A rush of humiliating memories flooded her mind in vivid, dirty detail:
- The time he had pinned her naked on the floor of his farmhouse, sat his full weight on her face, and unleashed a series of long, wet farts directly into her open mouth for forty-five minutes straight, slapping her tits hard whenever she dared to gag or turn away.
- Another night when he forced her to press her tongue deep between his sweaty, hairy ass cheeks and thoroughly clean his unwashed asshole after he had skipped showering for two days — making her describe the taste out loud while he recorded it.
- The most degrading one: after she once complained about inhaling the smell, he had made her kneel in his bathroom, pissed into a glass, made her to lick him clean including his assholes, and he named her as his personal toilet.
He was ruthless and creative when his dominance was challenged. Ambika knew Sanjana had just triggered that side.
Before Rathore could explode, Ambika jumped in desperately, her voice soft, submissive, and pleading. She leaned closer into him, placing one hand on his chest soothingly while the other gently squeezed Sanjana’s knee under the console, silently begging her sister to stay quiet.
“Sir… please forgive her. She’s just a young, innocent girl. She didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’m really, really sorry on her behalf. I should have prepared her better. Please, Sir… don’t get angry.”
Rathore didn’t even glance at Ambika at first. His cold, furious eyes stayed locked on Sanjana, who was now looking terrified, tears already welling up in her eyes. His jaw clenched tightly.
Then he suddenly shouted, his voice booming and harsh inside the expensive car:
“You should teach her fucking everything when you bring her here, you worthless asshole! How many times do I have to tell you this? One needs to learn basic respect and manners before stepping into my fucking space! Stupid bitches!”
Ambika flinched hard at the vulgar words, her face burning with deep embarrassment. Being shouted at and insulted like this in front of her own younger sister was utterly humiliating. She felt exposed — Sanjana was now clearly sensing the twisted reality of their “relationship.” This wasn’t just help from a powerful friend. Ambika was owned by this man, and the way she was pleading so submissively made that painfully obvious.
Sanjana sat frozen, tears slipping down her cheeks. The pieces were falling into place — her sister’s warnings that morning, the possessive touches, the way Ambika was letting him treat her… everything felt sickeningly clear now.
Rathore leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping but still dripping with controlled rage and authority.
“Both of you… fix your fucking attitudes when you are in my space. Or this meeting ends here get out of the car now, and you can forget about any PG seat, any help, anything. Understood?”
Ambika swallowed hard, nodding quickly, her hand still resting on Sanjana’s knee, silently urging her to comply. The heavy, pungent smell still lingered in the air, making everything feel even more degrading.
The car continued gliding smoothly toward the airport, but the atmosphere inside had turned thick with tension and fear.
---
Priya’s message remained unread on Ambika’s phone.
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