02-01-2019, 01:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-01-2019, 03:15 PM by Ramesh_Rocky.)
Kajol
Barely had she reached home, when Ramesh called.
“Kajo…”. He sounded tired.
“Ramesh”, she answered relieved. “Reached there alright honey?”
“Yeah! Just settled in the hotel. And note this number; I will be using this one here.”
“How is the place?”
“Oh, so wonderful!”, she heard his tired yet excited voice from the other end. “So clean everywhere. Everything is so spic and span.” Then his tone grew heavy “Miss you honey, wish you were here to see this wonderful city.”
“Me too honey”, she told him. “Remember to eat in time and rest as well.”
“Ok honey”, he replied, “Its already night here” reminding her of the time difference. “I am going down for dinner and will turn in early. Have to be ready by eight tomorrow.”
“Sure honey, take care. Muahhhh”
“You too! Muahhhh. Bye.” And he had hung up.
* * *
The chauffeur had knocked on her door and when she had opened, had handed her a wrapped cardboard box and a note. The instructions contained were precise and meticulous. She was to use all the accessories in the parcel and she was to be ready for pickup by seven which left her with a couple of hours, she realized when she looked at her watch.
With a mounting excitement, she opened the somewhat heavy box and took out the contents one by one. The first was a set of bra and panty, both being black. She felt the soft muslin of the panty and her fingers conveyed the sheer luxury of it. ‘Ahhh’, she closed her eyes for a moment and imagined what she would feel wearing it. Just the touch of it was so soothing, she thought. She put it back and took out the bra. “Ooii ma!”, she exclaimed aloud when she discovered that it was a pure net contraption. ‘Do they make things as such?’, she cringed imagining putting that on. ‘How could she possibly wear that?’ Her mouth fell open.
When she took out the next one, her hand flew to her mouth. It was a set of black garter silk stockings. She had never worn one such in her lifetime. Mind elsewhere, she examined the suspender clips, wondering how these contraptions worked and then put in away. A small box inside contained shaving equipments, a bottle of hair remover, a hair remover, a makeup compact set, a mascara pencil and one lipstick – again black. ‘Who the hell puts on a black lipstick”, she wondered. She checked the instruction sheet again. One bulleted point mentioned, use every item. Another, contained the terse message. She was to use the hair remover after shaving off all repeat all body hair. Her eyes roved over the last instruction, it said her to be ready by seven and that quickened her pulse. She took out the rest of the stuff which included some shower gel and bathing salts. Finally, she lifted out the last parcel. It contained a pair of black pointed stilettos, gleaming… She smiled to herself, ‘All this was so naughty….’
An hour and half later, she stood before the dressing mirror, examining the transformation. The image in the mirror was someone she hadn’t seen before – the rouge, the heavy mascara, the black lipsticks said it all – there was a high society prostitute behind the mirror, and she was smiling at her. Her pulse quickened.
She checked the note for the last time to check for anything left out inadvertently and then folded it back. That is when she observed the small handwritten line. It read,
PS: This is all that you need to wear for tonight.
‘Oh my God!’, she had a terrible fright. How was she to go downstairs in that attire? That was simply not possible. ‘Oh my God!, Think, think, think…’ , she banged her head with a closed fist as she broke out in a cold sweat.
Then suddenly her panicking mind grasped on a possible solution and she opened her wardrobe to take out a heavy long shawl and carefully wrapped around herself. ‘Hey bhagwaan! Let no one notice my feet’, she sent out a fervent prayer as she put on her heavy dark sunglasses. Then she called up the chauffeur to pick her up.
Seated inside the car, she breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily for her, the lift had been empty for the whole journey and the basement had a bunch of kids returning with bat and balls, and she had hurried her way to the car and nipped inside quickly. A moment later she started noticing the luxurious interiors. The plush leatherite upholstery exuding the musky fragrance, the darkened windows, the mini refrigerator and small TVs set into the front seat … ‘Must be a pricey model’, she mused, ‘wonder who owns this!’, she wanted to ask the chauffeur. But then she remembered the explicit instructions about not entering into any discussion with the chauffeur. However, she had to know when she reached the destination for she had to remove the shawl and dark glasses beforehand.
“Bhaiya”, she addressed the chauffeur, “please let me know when we are about to reach the place.”
The driver adjusted the brim of his cap. He had seen many such tarts as the one riding in the backseat and also was quite acquainted with their tantrums. He scoffed out a gutteral ‘yes’ without looking back. As the car picked up speed, Kajol tried to make out where they were heading for, but could only guess that they were leaving the city and entering its outskirts. After an hour or so of riding, the chauffeur called out ‘ten minutes to reach’ and she immediately got busy. In the closed space, she took out her ‘extra’ clothes and stuffed those into a bag. She noticed, the car getting into a high-walled compound with security and come to rest before a bungalow inside. The chauffeur got down to open the door and she stepped out clad in her garters and net bra and the stiletto heels, provided earlier, her white flesh standing out against the black lingerie and makeup. ‘My god! What have I become’, she told to herself as she entered inside.
Pooja, the junior ad-hoc lecturer in her department and who was clad exactly as herself, but entirely in red, came forward to take her hand, and led her to a room inside where the professor and three others were lounging about. All at once, she found herself moved to a very different world. She was transfixed at what she saw. There was the big circular bed in the center with easy lounging sofas placed. She looked up at the beautiful chandeliers which lit up the inside in a soft hue. Simultaneously she noticed the , the mirrored ceilings directly above the bed. Then her gaze turned to the four persons seated. Besides Bharadwaj, she had definitely seen one of them before. She took a quick look. He had that patrician profile, that carelessly effete look with a burning cigarette dangling between long tapering fingers. Kajol racked her mind to remember, where she had seen him before. ‘Yes, of course! He was frequently on the TV, some sort of financial expert, as far as she could recollect … yet the name eluded her.
She glanced at the next guy. It was a fatty guy stuffed in an elegant safari suit. She watched in fascination at the thick gold chain necklaces he was wearing and the sheer number of the rings on his fingers. He was fiddling with an iphone while he was dishing out quick fire instructions on another. ‘Businessman’, she made a mental note. The last one was in all whites, in tell-tale khadis that only political class wore. He had a large paunch as well. Again, she tried to guess which political party that the ‘netaji’ belonged to, but drew a blank there, as well.
She looked at the trolley containing the liquor bottles, ice pail and snacks. She noticed the half empty glasses that these people had been holding and of Pooja rushing in to serve everyone. The smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke and non-vegetarian starters pervaded all around. Then she became aware of another set of smell. It was in fact a combination of three things - of money, of sex and of power. She looked back at Bharadwaj.
The professor just acknowledged her presence and signaled her to the fatso who had now completed his telephonic conversations. She made way towards him and the man suddenly pulled her into his lap. “Ah! Kya maal hai”, he said to Bharadwaj while grabbing her breast. He lowered his face over hers and pressed his lips to her. After a deep kiss, he released her and made her stand up, then turning her around gave a playful slap on her naked buttocks. “What an ass!” He slapped again, this time harder.
“Ouch”, she cried out in surprise; but before she could react, she had been pulled by the netaji. He held her at a arms length, and examined her. Without warning, he thrust his hand in her skimpy panties and directly pushed a thick finger inside. Kajol bucked up in surprise and collapsed on him, clutching his neck for support. He let her keep her weight on him but went on rubbing in right earnest. She came on his fingers and he pulled out and let all see his glistening fingers. Her knees felt weak from the brutal assault and the orgasmic blast. Gradually she raised herself up and walked over to the tv personality.
Cigarette still in hand, he waved her down to crouch before him. She was at once thankful for this small gesture as she was still in pain down below. He pulled her head placed it directly over his crotch. Taking a deep drag, he let out the smoke and said “Open the zipper with your mouth sweetie, and no hands please.” Shuddering slightly inside, as she had never done anything remotely similar before, she directed her mouth to the top of his pants and after a couple of false tries, she somehow managed to get the lever in her mouth. Then she moved her head down and surprisingly the zipper came down. It was a moment of triumph and she looked up in pride at his smiling face. “Good job!”, he commended stubbing the cigarette. From a nearby plate, he took a fish finger, nibbled a bit and put the rest in her mouth. “Reward for you, bitch!”, he said putting the plate below on the floor. She understood at once and started eating the rest with her mouth lowered. There were appreciative chuckles all around as she licked the mayonnaise clean as well. She had been a good bitch.
He lifted her up to the bed in the center and the rest three of them came aboard as well. She looked at her reflection in the ceiling above as they spread her arms and legs wide in a long X. Then all the hands were on, unraveling the goody in the parcel, which was her in the lingerie. She felt the sure hands of the fatso businessman, the fumble of the netaji, the silken touch of the tv man and the no-nonsense approach of Bharadwaj. A couple of minutes later, she lay totally naked and spread-eagled, the parceled gift opened up to the participants … the color rushed to her cheeks as she shut her eyes in shame, but another part of her looked forward to the sensation of the multiple hands which were freely exploring her body, and yet another part of her began to be a little proud of the sight that she presented. She opened her eyes and thrust her chest forward…her mouth creased in a slight smile … and above her, she found the set of faces, filled with lust, filled with greed as well. Then a curious feeling, for something had been inserted into her cunt and taken out soon after, which had been a syringe without needle as she discovered later … ‘What had they put in there?’, she wondered.
But the four had already taken their position around her and dealing out a deck of playing cards, only that she was the board before them. She felt the cards on her exposed chest, belly, the fingers touching her in the process, cupping a breast or pulling a nip, running a palm over her smooth hairless crotch, Pooja recording it on one of their mobiles … and found herself enjoying the situation … till half an hour later, that slow itch started down below … Five minute later, she could no longer bear it, for the itch was so terrible, and it was then that she realized that it must be due to what they had injected. She squirmed, trying to clamp her vaginal muscles to ease the discomfort, but that was of no avail. The men above her stopped playing and watched her squirm. They held her hands as she tried to relived the itch and laughed at her struggling. Later on, it had become so terrible and she was almost reduced to tears now, she urgently needed the relief. “Fuck me’, she cried out, “fuck me please … any of you … all of you … please.” She thrashed about wildly.
Suddenly there was the relief and the doorway to heaven had opened up. She was being suckled, forcefully and at both nipples. A mouth had latched on to her pussy and was furiously sucking out the now gushing out juice. She thrashed her head from side to side and the pleasure sensations washed over her and she was being primed up for the journey to the moon. Overhead, she saw the reflection of the netaji’s head doing yeoman service to her nether region while Bhradwaj and fatso were happily at kneading her breast. That left the TV man, whose face she couldn’t see, but that must have been the one who was now sucking on her toes one by one … Pooja’s face coming up once in a recording everything in the mobile …
Barely had she reached home, when Ramesh called.
“Kajo…”. He sounded tired.
“Ramesh”, she answered relieved. “Reached there alright honey?”
“Yeah! Just settled in the hotel. And note this number; I will be using this one here.”
“How is the place?”
“Oh, so wonderful!”, she heard his tired yet excited voice from the other end. “So clean everywhere. Everything is so spic and span.” Then his tone grew heavy “Miss you honey, wish you were here to see this wonderful city.”
“Me too honey”, she told him. “Remember to eat in time and rest as well.”
“Ok honey”, he replied, “Its already night here” reminding her of the time difference. “I am going down for dinner and will turn in early. Have to be ready by eight tomorrow.”
“Sure honey, take care. Muahhhh”
“You too! Muahhhh. Bye.” And he had hung up.
* * *
The chauffeur had knocked on her door and when she had opened, had handed her a wrapped cardboard box and a note. The instructions contained were precise and meticulous. She was to use all the accessories in the parcel and she was to be ready for pickup by seven which left her with a couple of hours, she realized when she looked at her watch.
With a mounting excitement, she opened the somewhat heavy box and took out the contents one by one. The first was a set of bra and panty, both being black. She felt the soft muslin of the panty and her fingers conveyed the sheer luxury of it. ‘Ahhh’, she closed her eyes for a moment and imagined what she would feel wearing it. Just the touch of it was so soothing, she thought. She put it back and took out the bra. “Ooii ma!”, she exclaimed aloud when she discovered that it was a pure net contraption. ‘Do they make things as such?’, she cringed imagining putting that on. ‘How could she possibly wear that?’ Her mouth fell open.
When she took out the next one, her hand flew to her mouth. It was a set of black garter silk stockings. She had never worn one such in her lifetime. Mind elsewhere, she examined the suspender clips, wondering how these contraptions worked and then put in away. A small box inside contained shaving equipments, a bottle of hair remover, a hair remover, a makeup compact set, a mascara pencil and one lipstick – again black. ‘Who the hell puts on a black lipstick”, she wondered. She checked the instruction sheet again. One bulleted point mentioned, use every item. Another, contained the terse message. She was to use the hair remover after shaving off all repeat all body hair. Her eyes roved over the last instruction, it said her to be ready by seven and that quickened her pulse. She took out the rest of the stuff which included some shower gel and bathing salts. Finally, she lifted out the last parcel. It contained a pair of black pointed stilettos, gleaming… She smiled to herself, ‘All this was so naughty….’
An hour and half later, she stood before the dressing mirror, examining the transformation. The image in the mirror was someone she hadn’t seen before – the rouge, the heavy mascara, the black lipsticks said it all – there was a high society prostitute behind the mirror, and she was smiling at her. Her pulse quickened.
She checked the note for the last time to check for anything left out inadvertently and then folded it back. That is when she observed the small handwritten line. It read,
PS: This is all that you need to wear for tonight.
‘Oh my God!’, she had a terrible fright. How was she to go downstairs in that attire? That was simply not possible. ‘Oh my God!, Think, think, think…’ , she banged her head with a closed fist as she broke out in a cold sweat.
Then suddenly her panicking mind grasped on a possible solution and she opened her wardrobe to take out a heavy long shawl and carefully wrapped around herself. ‘Hey bhagwaan! Let no one notice my feet’, she sent out a fervent prayer as she put on her heavy dark sunglasses. Then she called up the chauffeur to pick her up.
Seated inside the car, she breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily for her, the lift had been empty for the whole journey and the basement had a bunch of kids returning with bat and balls, and she had hurried her way to the car and nipped inside quickly. A moment later she started noticing the luxurious interiors. The plush leatherite upholstery exuding the musky fragrance, the darkened windows, the mini refrigerator and small TVs set into the front seat … ‘Must be a pricey model’, she mused, ‘wonder who owns this!’, she wanted to ask the chauffeur. But then she remembered the explicit instructions about not entering into any discussion with the chauffeur. However, she had to know when she reached the destination for she had to remove the shawl and dark glasses beforehand.
“Bhaiya”, she addressed the chauffeur, “please let me know when we are about to reach the place.”
The driver adjusted the brim of his cap. He had seen many such tarts as the one riding in the backseat and also was quite acquainted with their tantrums. He scoffed out a gutteral ‘yes’ without looking back. As the car picked up speed, Kajol tried to make out where they were heading for, but could only guess that they were leaving the city and entering its outskirts. After an hour or so of riding, the chauffeur called out ‘ten minutes to reach’ and she immediately got busy. In the closed space, she took out her ‘extra’ clothes and stuffed those into a bag. She noticed, the car getting into a high-walled compound with security and come to rest before a bungalow inside. The chauffeur got down to open the door and she stepped out clad in her garters and net bra and the stiletto heels, provided earlier, her white flesh standing out against the black lingerie and makeup. ‘My god! What have I become’, she told to herself as she entered inside.
Pooja, the junior ad-hoc lecturer in her department and who was clad exactly as herself, but entirely in red, came forward to take her hand, and led her to a room inside where the professor and three others were lounging about. All at once, she found herself moved to a very different world. She was transfixed at what she saw. There was the big circular bed in the center with easy lounging sofas placed. She looked up at the beautiful chandeliers which lit up the inside in a soft hue. Simultaneously she noticed the , the mirrored ceilings directly above the bed. Then her gaze turned to the four persons seated. Besides Bharadwaj, she had definitely seen one of them before. She took a quick look. He had that patrician profile, that carelessly effete look with a burning cigarette dangling between long tapering fingers. Kajol racked her mind to remember, where she had seen him before. ‘Yes, of course! He was frequently on the TV, some sort of financial expert, as far as she could recollect … yet the name eluded her.
She glanced at the next guy. It was a fatty guy stuffed in an elegant safari suit. She watched in fascination at the thick gold chain necklaces he was wearing and the sheer number of the rings on his fingers. He was fiddling with an iphone while he was dishing out quick fire instructions on another. ‘Businessman’, she made a mental note. The last one was in all whites, in tell-tale khadis that only political class wore. He had a large paunch as well. Again, she tried to guess which political party that the ‘netaji’ belonged to, but drew a blank there, as well.
She looked at the trolley containing the liquor bottles, ice pail and snacks. She noticed the half empty glasses that these people had been holding and of Pooja rushing in to serve everyone. The smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke and non-vegetarian starters pervaded all around. Then she became aware of another set of smell. It was in fact a combination of three things - of money, of sex and of power. She looked back at Bharadwaj.
The professor just acknowledged her presence and signaled her to the fatso who had now completed his telephonic conversations. She made way towards him and the man suddenly pulled her into his lap. “Ah! Kya maal hai”, he said to Bharadwaj while grabbing her breast. He lowered his face over hers and pressed his lips to her. After a deep kiss, he released her and made her stand up, then turning her around gave a playful slap on her naked buttocks. “What an ass!” He slapped again, this time harder.
“Ouch”, she cried out in surprise; but before she could react, she had been pulled by the netaji. He held her at a arms length, and examined her. Without warning, he thrust his hand in her skimpy panties and directly pushed a thick finger inside. Kajol bucked up in surprise and collapsed on him, clutching his neck for support. He let her keep her weight on him but went on rubbing in right earnest. She came on his fingers and he pulled out and let all see his glistening fingers. Her knees felt weak from the brutal assault and the orgasmic blast. Gradually she raised herself up and walked over to the tv personality.
Cigarette still in hand, he waved her down to crouch before him. She was at once thankful for this small gesture as she was still in pain down below. He pulled her head placed it directly over his crotch. Taking a deep drag, he let out the smoke and said “Open the zipper with your mouth sweetie, and no hands please.” Shuddering slightly inside, as she had never done anything remotely similar before, she directed her mouth to the top of his pants and after a couple of false tries, she somehow managed to get the lever in her mouth. Then she moved her head down and surprisingly the zipper came down. It was a moment of triumph and she looked up in pride at his smiling face. “Good job!”, he commended stubbing the cigarette. From a nearby plate, he took a fish finger, nibbled a bit and put the rest in her mouth. “Reward for you, bitch!”, he said putting the plate below on the floor. She understood at once and started eating the rest with her mouth lowered. There were appreciative chuckles all around as she licked the mayonnaise clean as well. She had been a good bitch.
He lifted her up to the bed in the center and the rest three of them came aboard as well. She looked at her reflection in the ceiling above as they spread her arms and legs wide in a long X. Then all the hands were on, unraveling the goody in the parcel, which was her in the lingerie. She felt the sure hands of the fatso businessman, the fumble of the netaji, the silken touch of the tv man and the no-nonsense approach of Bharadwaj. A couple of minutes later, she lay totally naked and spread-eagled, the parceled gift opened up to the participants … the color rushed to her cheeks as she shut her eyes in shame, but another part of her looked forward to the sensation of the multiple hands which were freely exploring her body, and yet another part of her began to be a little proud of the sight that she presented. She opened her eyes and thrust her chest forward…her mouth creased in a slight smile … and above her, she found the set of faces, filled with lust, filled with greed as well. Then a curious feeling, for something had been inserted into her cunt and taken out soon after, which had been a syringe without needle as she discovered later … ‘What had they put in there?’, she wondered.
But the four had already taken their position around her and dealing out a deck of playing cards, only that she was the board before them. She felt the cards on her exposed chest, belly, the fingers touching her in the process, cupping a breast or pulling a nip, running a palm over her smooth hairless crotch, Pooja recording it on one of their mobiles … and found herself enjoying the situation … till half an hour later, that slow itch started down below … Five minute later, she could no longer bear it, for the itch was so terrible, and it was then that she realized that it must be due to what they had injected. She squirmed, trying to clamp her vaginal muscles to ease the discomfort, but that was of no avail. The men above her stopped playing and watched her squirm. They held her hands as she tried to relived the itch and laughed at her struggling. Later on, it had become so terrible and she was almost reduced to tears now, she urgently needed the relief. “Fuck me’, she cried out, “fuck me please … any of you … all of you … please.” She thrashed about wildly.
Suddenly there was the relief and the doorway to heaven had opened up. She was being suckled, forcefully and at both nipples. A mouth had latched on to her pussy and was furiously sucking out the now gushing out juice. She thrashed her head from side to side and the pleasure sensations washed over her and she was being primed up for the journey to the moon. Overhead, she saw the reflection of the netaji’s head doing yeoman service to her nether region while Bhradwaj and fatso were happily at kneading her breast. That left the TV man, whose face she couldn’t see, but that must have been the one who was now sucking on her toes one by one … Pooja’s face coming up once in a recording everything in the mobile …
Like, Comment and Give Rating.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)