Misc. Erotica Respect and Revenge

[Deepak.kapoor]

An Old Memory

Sher lay flat on his back on his bedding in the servants' quarters. Staring up at the ceiling, his hand remained dbangd over his pants atop that 7-inch Lund that refused to subside. The bathroom spectacle kept playing behind his closed eyelids like a movie reel.

He rolled onto his side, letting out a heavy sigh as he muttered, "Ah man, just watching from afar isn't cutting it anymore. The fire in my body keeps rising. Feel like running over right now and squeezing Memsaab's silky body in my hands. But how?"

A deep gloom and helplessness settled over his face. He remembered the voices of Sartaj and Meera in the bathroom, lost in each other's flesh as they whispered "I love you." That love, that deep bond... shook Sher to his core. He took a long breath and spoke inwardly to his own helplessness:

"Damn it, what am I even thinking... what is my worth against Sartaj? Where is he—a high-ranking IPS officer in the city, commanding and powerful—and where am I, a mere servant. Sartaj isn't just powerful, Memsaab is completely blind in her love for him. The bastard actually respects her too, and the absolute obsession Memsaab has for him in her eyes is impossible to break."

Sher stared silently at the ceiling. He realized that surpassing Sartaj socially or physically was far beyond his capability. "There isn't a single flaw in Memsaab's character either, nor does that cop have any weakness I could exploit to blackmail them. The two were made for each other... and I've been reduced to nothing more than a bug peeping through a hole."

Just then, as he lay there, an old memory flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning. A strange wildness and glint entered his eyes. He recalled that years ago, Shankar had also relied on those special intoxicating drugs to bring Meera under his control.

A wicked smile spread across Sher's face. He was an old practitioner with those herbs himself; he knew exactly what dose to prepare that could melt even a rock-like woman like wax.

Staring at the ceiling rafters, he whispered into the dark, "Yes! I found the way. If Memsaab won't enter this lion's cage on her own accord, I'll drag her into a world of intoxication where there won't be a trace of awareness left. The game Shankar started, this Sher will finish."

He slammed his fist against the mattress and stroking his erect organ, said, "Just hold on a bit longer, buddy... soon I'll prepare such a medicine that Memsaab herself will come running to you with that pink cave of hers. Then neither Sartaj will be remembered nor any loyalty... there will only be you and that intoxicating, fair flesh of hers."

Lying on the bed, Sher was immersed in these tangled thoughts, but his mind now began connecting the old dots rapidly. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling beams, wondering how Sartaj and Meera had met in the first place.

He remembered that his brother Shankar always talked about Meera, but he had never so much as uttered Sartaj's name. Then suddenly Shankar met his death... and along with him, all those videos Shankar used to blackmail Meera disappeared as well. The locker was empty, evidence wiped clean.

Scratching his beard, Sher muttered, "At that time, Memsaab was Aarav's wife. Then a year later came news that Aarav was killed in a car accident... and not even 7 or 8 months had passed before news of Meera and Sartaj's wedding took flight."

He took a deep breath and said in a hushed voice, "Even back then it crossed my mind that if there was one man who could rescue Meera Memsaab from Shankar's clutches, it could only be this Sartaj. After all, he's an IPS officer—power and the law are both in his hands. The bastard cleverly removed the thorns from Memsaab's life and crowned himself her king."

Sher now realized he wasn't up against an ordinary man, but the savior who had dragged Meera out of hell. He clenched his fist and thought to himself, 'Sartaj saved her, gave her love... that's why Memsaab adores him to death. Penetrating this fortress directly is impossible. Here, only brains and that potion will work.'

That demonic glint returned to his eyes once again. "Alright officer, you pulled her out of hell, now this Sher will show her such heavenly dreams that even while conscious she'll remain loyal to you, yet quench my thirst in her sleep."

The next morning, Sher crouched in a dark corner of his small quarters. Laid out before him were old herbs, powdered roots, and a small glass vial. His eyes sparkled with thrill. He was mixing those ingredients with extreme caution, knowing that a single minor mistake could ruin the entire plot.

Adding a pinch of dark powder, he muttered in his heavy voice: "Yes... this is the stuff. After drinking this, Memsaab will sink into such a deep sleep that even if lightning strikes outside, her eyes won't open. But the real magic of this potion lies elsewhere..."

He shook the vial and said with a devious grin, "Deep sleep is a given, but inside, a fire of lust will flare up so intensely that every pore of her skin will crave to be touched. And the best part is, if someone touches her or makes love to her in her sleep, she'll think she's merely having a beautiful, intoxicating dream. When she wakes up in the morning, her body will ache with a sweet soreness, but she won't remember a thing."

Sher capped the vial and stroked it affectionately, saying, "Get ready, Sher, the path to Memsaab's fair flesh and pink lips is clear now. Drowned in the intoxication of this potion, this 7-inch steel will measure the depths of her silky cave, and she'll think an angel has come into her dreams to give her a tour of paradise."

In Sher's eyes, there wasn't just raw lust, but a deep, calculating cunning. Rotating the vial in his palm, he took a cold breath. He remembered that Shankar had made the exact same mistake—haste. Shankar had assumed that on the strength of drugs alone he could conquer Memsaab's body, but how could he have known that Sartaj would stand as a wall between them? Sartaj didn't just save Memsaab, he slaughtered Shankar like a dog.

Muttering to himself, Sher said, "Nah brother, not yet... Shankar got reckless just like that. Sartaj is no ordinary push-over; Sher first needs to see how deep that wrestler has sunk his roots into Memsaab's heart. Until Sartaj's entire rap sheet is in hand, this 7-inch steel is better off staying in its sheath."

Sher was no amateur player. He knew that until he weighed Sartaj's strength and the depth of Memsaab's attachment to him, making a move would be like putting his own neck in a noose.

Only one thought was spinning in his head now—to probe Meera Memsaab. He wanted to observe how her facial expressions changed at the mere mention of Sartaj's name. Was he merely her protector, or did his reach extend all the way into her soul?

He concealed the vial, stepped out of his room, and began watching toward Memsaab's room, waiting for the right moment.