31-07-2026, 11:06 PM
I stepped out of the auto behind the driver into the poorly lit scrap metal yard. The ground under my sandals was uneven, mixed with small pieces of rusted iron and gravel. As I stood up fully after the long fast ride, I felt the familiar discomfort of my panties having ridden up and caught deep in my ass crack. The tight pull between my cheeks was sharp enough to make me pause. Still standing near the auto, I reached back over my purple saree and petticoat with my right hand, hooked my fingers under the edge of the fabric, and carefully pulled my panties out of my ass crack. I adjusted them properly into place so they sat smooth against my skin again, then used both hands to smooth the pleats of my purple saree around my hips and legs until everything looked neat once more. Only after that did I follow the driver toward the half-open shutter of the godown.
A man stood at the entrance, leaning one shoulder against the metal frame under the weak tube light. He was roughly built, with a stained shirt and a hard face. The driver walked up to him and began speaking in a low, urgent voice, asking about Loki and mentioning the earlier contact. The man did not answer immediately. His eyes had already left the driver’s face and locked onto me. He looked openly and without any attempt to hide it. His gaze moved first to my heavy breasts under the purple blouse, lingering on their round shape, then slid down to the neat curve of my waist, then lower to the full outline of my hips and the way my purple saree stretched across my ass. He stared as if a clean, high-class woman in a proper purple saree was something he had never seen standing this close in his life.
The driver noticed the direction of the man’s eyes. His jaw tightened at once. He turned back to me, voice sharp with sudden jealousy and real caution.
“Madam, wait inside the auto. It is not safe here.”
I hesitated for a second, still standing on the gravel. He stepped closer to me and spoke more firmly, lowering his voice so only I could hear, convincing me with clear urgency.
“These guys are animals. They have never seen high-class women like you in real life. If you stand here they will definitely enjoy you… they will fuck you without thinking twice. Sit inside the auto until I finish talking. Please.”
The open hunger in the other man’s stare made the warning feel real. I nodded once and turned back toward the auto. As I tried to climb into the back seat, the driver’s both hands suddenly came forward and grabbed my ass cheeks hard over my purple saree, my petticoat and my panties. His fingers sank deep into both of my ass cheeks at the same time, holding the full round weight of my ass cheeks, squeezing and spreading them slightly while he felt their softness and shape without any hesitation.
“These kinds of juicy high-class asses should not be available to unnecessary rowdies,” he said in a thick, possessive voice while his hands continued to grip and feel me. “Asses like yours are like laddoo to them, madam. Soft, full, perfect. If they get even one chance they will enjoy this ass the whole night. They will not leave it. That is why I am telling you to sit inside.”
A sharp jolt of awareness went through my body as both of his hands kept pressing and lifting my ass cheeks, openly enjoying the complete handful each palm held. I quickly pulled myself forward, climbed the rest of the way in, and sat down hard on the seat, pressing my back firmly against it so his hands had no more space and were forced to leave my ass.
He took his hands off my ass cheeks, gave the man at the entrance one hard, warning look, and walked into the godown with him. I sat alone in the auto under the weak tube light. The feeling of both his large hands still burned clearly on my ass cheeks — the pressure, the heat, the way my entire ass had filled his grip. Fifteen full minutes passed. The night air carried the smell of rust, old oil, and metal. From deeper inside the godown came the occasional sound of heavy things being moved and low male voices.
Finally the driver came back out alone. He walked straight to the auto, leaned in slightly through the open side, and spoke in a low, hurried voice.
“Five thousand rupees. I need it now.”
I opened my bag without asking any questions, counted the notes under the dim light, and handed them to him. He took the money, turned at once, and went back inside with the same man. Another stretch of waiting followed. When he emerged the second time his expression had changed — more focused, almost relieved, the earlier tension replaced by clear purpose.
“Quick. We have to go to a lodge named Priya Lodge. It is thirty minutes from here. Loki said Ravi is in Priya Lodge right now.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine at once, and pulled the auto away from the scrap metal market into the dark road. I sat in the back in my purple saree, one hand holding the metal grill, the night air rushing past my face again. The path to Market Ravi was still open. That single fact remained the only thing that mattered.
The driver pressed the accelerator the moment we left the scrap metal market behind. The auto shot forward into the dark highway, engine straining, the whole vehicle rattling hard over every uneven patch of road.
“Hold the grill tightly, madam,” he called over the noise of the wind and the engine. “I am going to ride as fast as I can.”
I gripped the metal grill with both hands at once. My fingers closed around the cold bars and stayed locked there. The night air rushed against my face and pulled at the pallu of my purple saree. Trees, milestones, and the occasional lorry flashed past in the darkness. The driver did not slow down even once. He leaned forward over the handle, eyes fixed on the road, pushing the auto to its limit.
We crossed Hosur. The familiar border signs disappeared behind us and the auto continued deeper into Tamil Nadu. The highway remained long and poorly lit. Only the single headlight of the auto cut a narrow path through the blackness. After some more hard riding the driver suddenly turned off the main road onto a smaller, darker side road. The surface became rougher. The trees closed in on both sides. There were no street lights, no shops, no other vehicles. Only the sound of the straining engine and the night insects.
The darkness and the isolation made the road feel scary. For a moment a cold thread of fear moved through my chest. I was alone with this shameless auto driver, far from Bangalore, far from my house, on an unknown road at night, going to meet dangerous men for the sake of revenge.
I forced the fear down and spoke to myself inside my head, clearly and firmly.
I am doing this for my husband.
Ram, I will avenge that bastard Santosh.
I watched you cry on our bedroom floor. I watched you stop eating and stop sleeping. I watched our home lose its happiness because of him.
I let this auto driver grope me. I let him feel up my ass cheeks with both hands again and again. I promised him a hug and a kiss. I tolerated every crude word and every touch.
All of this is for you.
But I will always be your wife. Nothing he does changes that.
I will not stop.
I will find Market Ravi. I will make sure Santosh suffers the way you suffered.
I will make sure Santosh dies.
This fear is nothing. This darkness is nothing. This man and his hands are nothing.
Only your pain matters. Only revenge matters.
The internal words settled the fear. My grip on the grill stayed tight. My back stayed straight. The auto continued racing down the dark narrow road while I kept the single cold purpose fixed in the centre of my mind: reach Priya Lodge, meet Loki, reach Market Ravi, and begin the punishment that Santosh still had not received.
We reached Priya Lodge. The place was only about a hundred metres ahead, partially hidden among thick trees and almost swallowed by the darkness of the night. The single headlight of the auto swept across the rough path and then went dark as the driver slowed down deliberately. To avoid any immediate hostility he turned the auto off the main approach and parked it carefully near a dense patch of bushes, away from the gate where nobody was standing in the open. He switched off the engine. For several long seconds he simply sat still, both hands on the handle, staring at the lodge through the windscreen.
I could see the clear conflict on his face. Priya Lodge was guarded by Ravi’s men — rough-looking figures standing near the narrow gate and along the short path that led to the building. Some leaned against the low compound wall, others stood with arms crossed, all of them alert. The driver kept glancing at me, then at those men, then back at me again. He was possessive. He knew exactly what would happen the moment those men saw a high-class woman in a clean purple saree walking into their space. His jaw worked once. His fingers tightened on the handle.
He spoke without looking at me fully, his voice low and reluctant, almost unwilling.
“Madam… those men standing there… they will look at you. They will want you. Are you sure you want to go in?”
I answered without any hesitation, my voice steady.
“It doesn’t matter. I have to meet Ravi. Take me.”
He let out a short, heavy breath through his nose, then nodded once.
“Okay. Come.”
We both got down from the auto. He locked it, checked the door once, and we began walking toward Priya Lodge side by side. After only a few steps he spoke again, voice low and instructive, eyes fixed ahead on the men near the gate.
“Madam, cover yourself properly. Pull the pallu tighter. Make sure nothing sways when you walk… especially your ass. Don’t move fast. If you walk fast your breasts will bounce and it will tempt them the same way it is already tempting me. Walk slow and steady.”
I nodded once.
“Okay.”
I adjusted the pallu of my purple saree, pulled it more firmly across my chest, and slowed my steps deliberately. I kept my movements controlled and even, making sure my hips did not sway more than necessary and that my breasts stayed as still as possible under the purple blouse. The path was narrow, uneven, and poorly lit. Dry leaves and small stones shifted under my sandals. The lodge itself was small — a low two-storey building almost completely hidden among the thick trees, with only a few dim yellow lights visible through the branches. The air smelled of damp earth, cigarette smoke, and something metallic.
As we came closer, Ravi’s men turned their heads one by one. Their eyes locked onto me at once. They looked at me from head to toe without any attempt to hide it. First my face, then the heavy round shape of my breasts under the purple blouse, then the neat curve of my waist, then the full outline of my hips and the way the purple saree stretched across my ass with each careful step. I saw more than one of them shift their weight. Clear boners rose under their lungis and trousers. The hunger in their stares was open, heavy, and completely unfiltered. They looked at me the way men look at something they want to take.
At the gate the driver stopped and spoke to the two men standing there. His voice was firm but respectful.
“I am Gopi. From Ravi’s area. Loki sent me. We need to meet Ravi.”
One of the men looked at me again, longer and more openly this time, his eyes moving slowly over my body once more. Then he took out a cheap mobile phone, made a short call, and spoke a few rapid words in a low voice. He listened, nodded once, and gestured with his chin toward the entrance.
“Go inside.”
We walked past the gate into a small, dimly lit reception area. The floor was bare cement. A rough wooden counter stood against one wall. Two more men sat behind it. The moment we entered, both of them stared at me the same way the men outside had — head to toe, slow and shameless. One of them stood up, let his eyes travel over my breasts, my waist, and my hips again, then spoke to the driver in a flat voice.
“Both of you. Adjacent room. Searching.”
They led us toward a small side room next to the reception. The door was already half open. The air that came out of it smelled of cigarette smoke, cheap disinfectant, and old sweat. I stepped in after the driver, the purple saree moving softly around my legs with each controlled step, fully aware that every pair of eyes in the place was still following the movement of my body. The path to Market Ravi was now only a few doors away. I kept my back straight and my face calm. Everything I had tolerated until this moment had brought me here. I would not stop.
A man stood at the entrance, leaning one shoulder against the metal frame under the weak tube light. He was roughly built, with a stained shirt and a hard face. The driver walked up to him and began speaking in a low, urgent voice, asking about Loki and mentioning the earlier contact. The man did not answer immediately. His eyes had already left the driver’s face and locked onto me. He looked openly and without any attempt to hide it. His gaze moved first to my heavy breasts under the purple blouse, lingering on their round shape, then slid down to the neat curve of my waist, then lower to the full outline of my hips and the way my purple saree stretched across my ass. He stared as if a clean, high-class woman in a proper purple saree was something he had never seen standing this close in his life.
The driver noticed the direction of the man’s eyes. His jaw tightened at once. He turned back to me, voice sharp with sudden jealousy and real caution.
“Madam, wait inside the auto. It is not safe here.”
I hesitated for a second, still standing on the gravel. He stepped closer to me and spoke more firmly, lowering his voice so only I could hear, convincing me with clear urgency.
“These guys are animals. They have never seen high-class women like you in real life. If you stand here they will definitely enjoy you… they will fuck you without thinking twice. Sit inside the auto until I finish talking. Please.”
The open hunger in the other man’s stare made the warning feel real. I nodded once and turned back toward the auto. As I tried to climb into the back seat, the driver’s both hands suddenly came forward and grabbed my ass cheeks hard over my purple saree, my petticoat and my panties. His fingers sank deep into both of my ass cheeks at the same time, holding the full round weight of my ass cheeks, squeezing and spreading them slightly while he felt their softness and shape without any hesitation.
“These kinds of juicy high-class asses should not be available to unnecessary rowdies,” he said in a thick, possessive voice while his hands continued to grip and feel me. “Asses like yours are like laddoo to them, madam. Soft, full, perfect. If they get even one chance they will enjoy this ass the whole night. They will not leave it. That is why I am telling you to sit inside.”
A sharp jolt of awareness went through my body as both of his hands kept pressing and lifting my ass cheeks, openly enjoying the complete handful each palm held. I quickly pulled myself forward, climbed the rest of the way in, and sat down hard on the seat, pressing my back firmly against it so his hands had no more space and were forced to leave my ass.
He took his hands off my ass cheeks, gave the man at the entrance one hard, warning look, and walked into the godown with him. I sat alone in the auto under the weak tube light. The feeling of both his large hands still burned clearly on my ass cheeks — the pressure, the heat, the way my entire ass had filled his grip. Fifteen full minutes passed. The night air carried the smell of rust, old oil, and metal. From deeper inside the godown came the occasional sound of heavy things being moved and low male voices.
Finally the driver came back out alone. He walked straight to the auto, leaned in slightly through the open side, and spoke in a low, hurried voice.
“Five thousand rupees. I need it now.”
I opened my bag without asking any questions, counted the notes under the dim light, and handed them to him. He took the money, turned at once, and went back inside with the same man. Another stretch of waiting followed. When he emerged the second time his expression had changed — more focused, almost relieved, the earlier tension replaced by clear purpose.
“Quick. We have to go to a lodge named Priya Lodge. It is thirty minutes from here. Loki said Ravi is in Priya Lodge right now.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine at once, and pulled the auto away from the scrap metal market into the dark road. I sat in the back in my purple saree, one hand holding the metal grill, the night air rushing past my face again. The path to Market Ravi was still open. That single fact remained the only thing that mattered.
The driver pressed the accelerator the moment we left the scrap metal market behind. The auto shot forward into the dark highway, engine straining, the whole vehicle rattling hard over every uneven patch of road.
“Hold the grill tightly, madam,” he called over the noise of the wind and the engine. “I am going to ride as fast as I can.”
I gripped the metal grill with both hands at once. My fingers closed around the cold bars and stayed locked there. The night air rushed against my face and pulled at the pallu of my purple saree. Trees, milestones, and the occasional lorry flashed past in the darkness. The driver did not slow down even once. He leaned forward over the handle, eyes fixed on the road, pushing the auto to its limit.
We crossed Hosur. The familiar border signs disappeared behind us and the auto continued deeper into Tamil Nadu. The highway remained long and poorly lit. Only the single headlight of the auto cut a narrow path through the blackness. After some more hard riding the driver suddenly turned off the main road onto a smaller, darker side road. The surface became rougher. The trees closed in on both sides. There were no street lights, no shops, no other vehicles. Only the sound of the straining engine and the night insects.
The darkness and the isolation made the road feel scary. For a moment a cold thread of fear moved through my chest. I was alone with this shameless auto driver, far from Bangalore, far from my house, on an unknown road at night, going to meet dangerous men for the sake of revenge.
I forced the fear down and spoke to myself inside my head, clearly and firmly.
I am doing this for my husband.
Ram, I will avenge that bastard Santosh.
I watched you cry on our bedroom floor. I watched you stop eating and stop sleeping. I watched our home lose its happiness because of him.
I let this auto driver grope me. I let him feel up my ass cheeks with both hands again and again. I promised him a hug and a kiss. I tolerated every crude word and every touch.
All of this is for you.
But I will always be your wife. Nothing he does changes that.
I will not stop.
I will find Market Ravi. I will make sure Santosh suffers the way you suffered.
I will make sure Santosh dies.
This fear is nothing. This darkness is nothing. This man and his hands are nothing.
Only your pain matters. Only revenge matters.
The internal words settled the fear. My grip on the grill stayed tight. My back stayed straight. The auto continued racing down the dark narrow road while I kept the single cold purpose fixed in the centre of my mind: reach Priya Lodge, meet Loki, reach Market Ravi, and begin the punishment that Santosh still had not received.
We reached Priya Lodge. The place was only about a hundred metres ahead, partially hidden among thick trees and almost swallowed by the darkness of the night. The single headlight of the auto swept across the rough path and then went dark as the driver slowed down deliberately. To avoid any immediate hostility he turned the auto off the main approach and parked it carefully near a dense patch of bushes, away from the gate where nobody was standing in the open. He switched off the engine. For several long seconds he simply sat still, both hands on the handle, staring at the lodge through the windscreen.
I could see the clear conflict on his face. Priya Lodge was guarded by Ravi’s men — rough-looking figures standing near the narrow gate and along the short path that led to the building. Some leaned against the low compound wall, others stood with arms crossed, all of them alert. The driver kept glancing at me, then at those men, then back at me again. He was possessive. He knew exactly what would happen the moment those men saw a high-class woman in a clean purple saree walking into their space. His jaw worked once. His fingers tightened on the handle.
He spoke without looking at me fully, his voice low and reluctant, almost unwilling.
“Madam… those men standing there… they will look at you. They will want you. Are you sure you want to go in?”
I answered without any hesitation, my voice steady.
“It doesn’t matter. I have to meet Ravi. Take me.”
He let out a short, heavy breath through his nose, then nodded once.
“Okay. Come.”
We both got down from the auto. He locked it, checked the door once, and we began walking toward Priya Lodge side by side. After only a few steps he spoke again, voice low and instructive, eyes fixed ahead on the men near the gate.
“Madam, cover yourself properly. Pull the pallu tighter. Make sure nothing sways when you walk… especially your ass. Don’t move fast. If you walk fast your breasts will bounce and it will tempt them the same way it is already tempting me. Walk slow and steady.”
I nodded once.
“Okay.”
I adjusted the pallu of my purple saree, pulled it more firmly across my chest, and slowed my steps deliberately. I kept my movements controlled and even, making sure my hips did not sway more than necessary and that my breasts stayed as still as possible under the purple blouse. The path was narrow, uneven, and poorly lit. Dry leaves and small stones shifted under my sandals. The lodge itself was small — a low two-storey building almost completely hidden among the thick trees, with only a few dim yellow lights visible through the branches. The air smelled of damp earth, cigarette smoke, and something metallic.
As we came closer, Ravi’s men turned their heads one by one. Their eyes locked onto me at once. They looked at me from head to toe without any attempt to hide it. First my face, then the heavy round shape of my breasts under the purple blouse, then the neat curve of my waist, then the full outline of my hips and the way the purple saree stretched across my ass with each careful step. I saw more than one of them shift their weight. Clear boners rose under their lungis and trousers. The hunger in their stares was open, heavy, and completely unfiltered. They looked at me the way men look at something they want to take.
At the gate the driver stopped and spoke to the two men standing there. His voice was firm but respectful.
“I am Gopi. From Ravi’s area. Loki sent me. We need to meet Ravi.”
One of the men looked at me again, longer and more openly this time, his eyes moving slowly over my body once more. Then he took out a cheap mobile phone, made a short call, and spoke a few rapid words in a low voice. He listened, nodded once, and gestured with his chin toward the entrance.
“Go inside.”
We walked past the gate into a small, dimly lit reception area. The floor was bare cement. A rough wooden counter stood against one wall. Two more men sat behind it. The moment we entered, both of them stared at me the same way the men outside had — head to toe, slow and shameless. One of them stood up, let his eyes travel over my breasts, my waist, and my hips again, then spoke to the driver in a flat voice.
“Both of you. Adjacent room. Searching.”
They led us toward a small side room next to the reception. The door was already half open. The air that came out of it smelled of cigarette smoke, cheap disinfectant, and old sweat. I stepped in after the driver, the purple saree moving softly around my legs with each controlled step, fully aware that every pair of eyes in the place was still following the movement of my body. The path to Market Ravi was now only a few doors away. I kept my back straight and my face calm. Everything I had tolerated until this moment had brought me here. I would not stop.
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