Misc. Erotica Respect and Revenge

[Deepak.kapoor]

Sher's Campaign - 1

The next afternoon, a deep silence pervaded the house. Sartaj was busy at his office, while Jyoti was attending her classes at sch**l. Meera was sitting on a comfortable sofa in the living room, lost in a romantic novel.

She was wearing a yellow saree that suited her fair complexion beautifully. The pallu of her saree drifted gently, offering a subtle glimpse of her waist.

Sher, stepped quietly out of the kitchen holding a glass of fresh pomegranate juice. He had slyly mixed a special drug into it—a concoction designed to send a wave of heat surging through the body, stimulate the nerves, and lull the mind into a heavy, intoxicating sleep.

The drug was so potent that whoever drank it would drift off into a dreamworld where the boundary between reality and fantasy completely blurred.

Sher [Internal Thoughts]: 'Today, Memsahib... today this lion goes straight into the cave. Every single drop of this juice will ignite a fire in your veins, making you forget Sartaj and call out for me instead.'

Sher: (In a respectful tone, though a hidden spark gleamed in his eyes) "Memsahib, Sahib gave me strict instructions because you never drink your juice on time. Here, please take this—I just squeezed it fresh from the pomegranates. I even added a bit of cardamom to enhance the flavor."

Meera lifted her eyes from the book and accepted the glass with a smile. She began sipping the juice slowly. With every swallow, her face looked refreshed.

"Thank you, Sher. You take such good care of things."

About ten minutes later, Meera felt a strange heaviness weigh down her eyes. Her eyelids grew drowsy, and the book slipped from her fingers onto the sofa. She lay back right there, thinking she would just take a quick nap.

However, the drug had already worked its spell—she sank into a deep unconsciousness as a surreal warmth spread throughout her body, stirring erotic dreams in her mind. Her lips parted slightly, and her breathing turned shallow and fast.

Sher tiptoed closer. He saw that Meera’s body had gone completely limp. Her pallu trailed down toward the floor, leaving her bare belly and deep navel exposed to the cool air.

Sher knelt beside her on the floor. First, he drank in the sight of her face. The drug’s effect had taken hold; her lips were softly open, and a delicate flush had spread across her cheeks.

Trembling, Sher placed his fingers against the soles of her feet. The moment his touch met that velvety skin, a rush of heat surged through his body. His touch was so soft that, in her slumber, Meera felt only a light tickle. Sher’s breath quickened as his fingers slid slowly over her toes, caressing them gently.

Sher: (Whispering under his breath, barely loud enough for himself to hear) "Oh... so soft... just like velvet. Memsoba, you are so breathtaking. I’ll just touch a little bit... just a little."

He moved upward with exquisite slowness. His fingers now traced her legs—touching under the saree without applying any pressure. A faint shiver ran through Meera's frame, yet she remained bound in sleep.

Emboldened, Sher rested his palm flat against her bare stomach—that patch of skin was radiating heat from the drug, burning like a smoldering fire. He rotated his fingers very gently over her belly, tracing slow circles. A soft gasp escaped Meera's mouth—

"Mmm..."

Sher froze, terrified she might wake up. But seeing that her eyes remained closed and her face had flushed a deeper shade of pink, he resumed.

He guided his fingers toward her navel—a deep, captivating well peeking out beneath her saree. Sher gently dipped a finger into her navel, not pressing, merely touching. Meera’s stomach contracted slightly, and another soft sigh parted her lips.

Sher’s body burned like fire. His gaze shifted to her breasts, rising and falling beneath her saree and blouse. They heaved with every breath, as if extending an invitation.

Sher laid his hand lightly over her blouse, exerting no pressure, simply caressing and feeling her form. Meera’s nipples had hardened under the heat of the drug, standing firm against the fabric of her blouse. Sher rotated his fingers around them in gentle, circular motions. Meera’s breathing grew even heavier—

Meera: (Moaning in her sleep) "Oh... Sartaj... what... what are you doing to me?"

Sher could no longer hold back. He leaned down toward Meera's neck, his warm breath fanning across her throat. He rested his lips softly against her skin—first a gentle touch, then a tender kiss. A thrill coursed through her neck, and she shifted her head slightly in her sleep.

Meera: (Whispering in her sleep) "Ah... Sartaj... please... stop..."

Driven by growing boldness, Sher bit her neck lightly—just enough to excite her without causing pain. Meera’s gasp deepened.

Still lost in sleep, she raised her arms and dbangd them over Sher's shoulders, seeking to embrace him as if he were Sartaj. Sher brought his face closer to hers. He threaded his fingers through her hair, stroking it soothingly.

Then, very slowly, he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss began gently—a mere brush of skin. But as the seconds passed, Sher deepened it, his tongue tracing her lips and nudging gently to explore inside.

Meera let out a sweet moan—"Ah... Sartaj..."

Sher's 7-inch cock had hardened like a rock inside his trousers, but he knew he had to take things slow. He didn't want Meera to wake up.

With extreme care, Sher lifted Meera into his strong arms. Her body melted against his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder, her warm, moist breath searing his neck. Sher’s heart pounded wildly—a surge of fear and lust combined.

He moved slowly toward the bedroom. The moment he shut the door, the room filled with the echo of their heavy breathing. Sher laid Meera down on the grand, soft bed. Her body spread across the mattress, the yellow saree tangling in soft folds around her.

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Sartaj's Unrest

Meanwhile, on the bustling city streets inside an official security officer vehicle, Sartaj’s heart suddenly chest-thumped with intensity. He was traveling on a field assignment with his team, but over the past few minutes, an inexplicable restlessness had gripped him. Instinctively, his hand went to his chest.

He pulled out his wallet and opened it. Tucked in one corner was a small, smiling photograph of Meera. Sartaj stared intently at the image.

Sartaj [To himself]: 'I don't know why, but my heart is uneasy. It feels as though Meera is in some great danger... Am I missing something?'

--------------

Sher (To himself, whispering): "This is the very bed... where that Sardar rides you every night. Today, Little do you know, Meera Madam... your servant is becoming your master."

Sher didn't know how to unwrap a saree properly, so he took no risks. He began by sliding the silky pink pallu off her shoulder with utmost care.

The moment the pallu fell away, Meera’s upper body was left clad only in her tight yellow blouse. The blouse was so snug that her well-shaped, luscious breasts seemed ready to spill over.

Sher's fingers trembled. Very slowly, he unbuttoned the blouse one by one. With every button that gave way, his breathing grew heavier. As the two sides of the blouse parted, Meera’s yellow bra came into view—lifting and enhancing her fair, shapely breasts. Sher paused for a moment to devour the sight.

Sher (To himself, voice quivering): 'Uff... these look like spheres of fresh cream... so pale, so soft... Only Sartaj’s hands have ruled over them until today... but today... my dark fingers will leave their mark on them.'

He unhooked the bra with a gentle touch, ensuring there was no sudden movement. The bra loosened, and Meera’s large, round, luscious breasts spilled free. They were so supple and full that Sher felt as though a dream was turning into reality before his eyes. Her nipples had turned hard and pink from the heat of the drug.

Captivated by the radiance of those fair mounds and the taut pink buds atop them, he lost all sense of restraint. He simply stared at those twin curves, mesmerized as if beholding a divine statue.

Just then, the silence was shattered as Meera’s mobile screen lit up. The phone on the table began to vibrate—'Sartaj Calling'.

Sher’s heart plummeted. He shuddered for a second, but in the next instant, he snatched the phone and muted it. Looking at Sartaj’s name glowing on the screen, he ground his teeth and hissed a filthy curse under his breath.

Sher: "Interfering bastard! Calling your wife right now? Son of a bitch... Can't you do your duty over there, while this lion drinks the sweetness of your prized possession here."

He set the phone down, though his eyes lingered on the dimming screen. Sartaj’s call was still coming through, while Sher lowered his face back toward Meera’s exposed, heavy breasts.

With absolute shamelessness, he extended his tongue and began licking and sucking her pink buds. He kept his eyes on the vibrating phone while his other hand gently massaged her fair flesh without applying heavy pressure—kneading her mound with his palm while rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger.

In her sleep, Meera let out a long, intoxicating moan, pulling Sher’s head tighter against her chest under the illusion that her husband was making love to her.

Meera (Intoxicated, whispering): "...Ah... Sartaj...?"

Sher felt a wave of cruel satisfaction. He thought to himself, 'Look, Inspector Sahib... keep calling all you want, while I savor the sweet milk of your wife’s delicate vessels.'

The phone screen went dark once more. After just a few minutes of quiet, Meera’s phone vibrated again in the dim room. The screen lit up with the same name—'Sartaj Calling'.

Sher pulled his mouth away from one of Meera's breasts, which was now glistening, wet with his saliva. He turned to look at the glowing screen, a twisted smirk spreading across his face. Gritting his teeth, he cursed Sartaj filthily once again.

Sher [In a wild tone]: "You stubborn dog... won't give up, will you? You son of a whore, calling again and again to check on your wife? Go ahead... the more you call, the more I will ravage this treasure of yours."

Ignoring the phone again, he turned his attention to Meera’s other heavy, overflowing breast. Possessively, he cupped the fair mound in his palm and brought it toward his mouth.

Sher [Muttering]: "As long as you keep calling, I’ll keep drinking this sweet nectar from your wife. Show off your authority out there, while I reign as the master of this silky body right here."

He swiped his tongue over her second pink bud, which was already stiff as a stone from the cold air and the drug's heat. Sher pinched it lightly between his teeth, sending a wave of pleasure through Meera's body. 

Deep in her drugged sleep, Meera groaned sensually. She arched her body closer to Sher, her unconscious mind still convinced that Sartaj was the one beside her.

Sher had lost all restraint. He glanced back and forth between the vibrating phone—a testament to Sartaj's desperation—and Meera's bare, heavy breasts, attacking them with redoubled fervor. He sucked on that fair flesh like a starving child feeding on its mother’s milk.

His tongue swirled around her breasts, savoring the velvety texture of her skin. The blue light from the phone reflected off Sher's face, making his eyes gleam like a wild predator's.

Across town, Sartaj’s heart sank with a growing sense of dread. Sitting in the back seat of his vehicle, he dialed Meera’s number repeatedly. Time seemed to stand still.

Sartaj (To himself): "Why isn't Meera picking up? It's afternoon, and her phone keeps ringing... She usually wakes up at the slightest sound. Could... could this silence mean she's in grave danger?"

He tried her number five or six times in a row. Every time, it rang out completely before disconnecting. Sartaj’s anxiety was rapidly turning into anger and fear.

Yet here in the dark bedroom, Sartaj’s frantic efforts only fueled Sher’s wild celebration. Every time the phone on the table lit up and flooded the room with blue light, Sher’s lust surged to new heights.

With every vibration of the phone, Sher tightened his grip on Meera’s pale breasts. He felt as though he were directly defying Sartaj’s manhood.

Sher [Growing more feral with every ring]: "Ring all you want, bastard... every time it rings, I’ll squeeze more sweetness from this fair flesh. You call out to her, while I taste her with my tongue."

As the count of Sartaj's missed calls mounted, Sher's touch grew increasingly aggressive. He took one of Meera's breasts entirely into his mouth, sucking so intensely that soft groans escaped her lips even in her sleep.

Whenever a call ended and Sartaj redialed, Sher shifted his tongue to her other pink bud.

In her state of deep intoxication, Meera simply arched her hips upward. She imagined that Sartaj was unusually passionate today, and in that haze, she parted her legs slightly wider.

As Sartaj’s sixth call rang out, Sher had drenched Meera's body in his saliva.

When the sixth call also disconnected without an answer, a heavy silence reclaimed the room. The blue light on the table finally went dark.

Sher flashed a predatory smile at Sartaj’s silent defeat and slid his face down from Meera’s wet breasts, moving toward her waist.

The drug had fully saturated Meera's system. She was drifting in a dreamscape where she felt only a strong presence beside her. Believing Sartaj was taking her into the depths of his passion, she let out a long, deep sigh.

Sher crawled onto her bare, velvety stomach. Sweat and light moisture made her fair skin even slicker and more intoxicating. Sher anchored his rough palms on either side of her waist and began swirling his tongue around her deep navel.

Sher [Lustful whisper]: "Inspector Sahib's calls have stopped... now this Sher's real game begins. Is this a navel or a magical well... today I won't stop until I drown in it."

He plunged his tongue into the deep hollow of her navel. Meera’s entire body quivered like a live wire, her feet digging into the mattress.

Sher’s hand now slid down toward the lower half of her saree. He gathered the saree and petticoat together, slowly hauling them upward. As the fabric glided up, Meera’s fair, sleek legs were exposed.

When the saree reached her hips, Sher’s gaze landed on her yellow panties. In the center was a prominent wet patch—drenched from her arousal—forming a clear camel toe. Sher’s heart leapt into his throat.

Sher (To himself, trembling): 'Uff... look at this... she's so wet... Sartaj's hasn't even arrived... yet this pussy is craving for me.'

He carefully slid her panties down a little. Positioned right before Sher's eyes was the secret treasure between Meera’s legs—a smooth, pink, neatly shaved pussy, glistening with sweat and moisture. Sher's throat went dry.

That innocent, wet pink treasure between Meera's legs lay completely bare before Sher. It looked so clean, tender, and intoxicating that a wild redness flushed into Sher's eyes.

Sher [Gritting his teeth]: "Oh God... what a divine vision! Such a smooth, butter-soft slit... today I will breach Sartaj’s fortress completely."

He rested a finger very gently on that velvety threshold—merely touching it, without penetrating.

Sher (To himself): 'This is the place... where that 10-inch staff goes every night... today my fingers will rule here... Look, Meera Madam... your servant is going to show you heaven today.'

He began slowly sliding his finger along that wet slit, lightly rubbing her clitoris from the outside. Moaning softly, Meera parted her legs even wider, her waist lifting off the bed.

Meera (Moaning in her sleep): "Ah... Sartaj... yes... right there... uff... you feel so... different today... love me more... more... gently... please..."

Just as Sher was about to bury his face between Meera’s wet, silky thighs to taste that pink slit, his own mobile phone began vibrating in his trouser pocket. The sudden sound shattered the silence like an explosion.

Sher’s body shook with fear and frustration. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone— the screen displayed 'Sartaj Sahib'.

Sher’s breath hitched in his throat. He cast one last glance at Meera’s exposed, intoxicated pink treasure, then answered the call and brought the phone to his ear.

Sartaj: (Over the phone, his voice heavy with anxiety and sternness) "Sher! Where are you? I’ve been calling Meera for half an hour, and she isn’t answering. Is everything okay? What are you doing?"

Right before Sher’s eyes lay Meera's soft pink lips, yearning for his touch at any moment. Keeping his lust-filled gaze fixed right there, he forced his voice to sound as steady and respectful as possible.

Sher: "Yes... yes, Sahib. I was just resting in my room. Everything is fine, Sahib... Memsahib must have fallen into a deep sleep, which is why she didn't hear the phone ring. Don't worry, I am right here."

Inside his mind, however, venom was boiling. He cursed Sartaj viciously in his thoughts.

Sher [Internal Dialogue]: 'You son of a bitch! Bastard... why don't you just do your duty! Here your wife is lying with her legs wide open in front of my face, and you're sticking your nose in the middle. Show off your uniform over there, while I prepare to taste the pink lips of your prized wife. Interfering bastard...!'

Sartaj’s voice crackled through the phone like a cold whip, "Sher! I’m arriving in five minutes. Come outside and open the main gate."

Sher’s heart sank. He had no time left—just a few precious moments. He ground his teeth, ended the call, and silently cursed seven generations of Sartaj's lineage.

Sher [Internal Dialogue]: 'You dog! Bastard... if you had delayed just two more minutes, I would have measured the depth of this pink well. Son of a whore, showing up right when things were getting good. Come on then... but let me taste this beauty first!'

Danger was looming right over his head, but Sher’s lust had grown so unbridled that he disregarded those precious two minutes. 

He lowered his mouth straight onto the wet, innocent pink treasure between Meera’s legs. With wild intensity, he licked and sucked those soft lips with his tongue. In her heavy intoxication, Meera arched her waist upward, letting out a long gasp that almost echoed outside the room.

Meera (In a sensual tone): "Oh... Sartaj... ah... more... lower... please..."

Sher wanted to wring out every drop of sweetness from that pink slit with the friction of his tongue. His mouth filled with the intoxicating scent of her most intimate place.

Meera (Groaning): "Yes... Sartaj... just like that... you're... showing me heaven... ah... faster... no... slow... slowly... just like that... uff..."

Sher’s mind was consumed by lust, yet his survival instincts remained sharp. He knew that a single mistake, a wrong mark, or even a glimpse from Meera if she opened her eyes would mean a bullet from Sartaj’s revolver sending him straight to a cell.

He pulled his tongue away from Meera’s pussy. Her waist remained arched off the bed, her legs trembling, her breath coming in heavy gasps.

His hands were still cupping Meera's bare, ripe breasts, gently massaging them and rolling her nipples between his thumbs. Meera moaned in her sleep—

Sher slowly removed his hands. Meera’s body curled slightly on the bed, as if an incomplete dream had been interrupted. Her breathing was still rapid, her face flushed, her lips trembling. Sher checked his watch—the two minutes were up.

With a heavy heart, he pulled back. Very carefully, he rehooked her bra, his hands still trembling slightly. He then fastened the buttons of her blouse one by one—watching Meera’s face with every button to ensure she didn't wake up. The blouse was restored completely to order.

Next, he took hold of the saree and petticoat that had been pulled up to her hips. Very gently, without any abrupt movements, he slid them back down. He arranged every pleat of the saree in its proper place and adjusted the petticoat at her waist.

Lifting the pallu, he dbangd it over Meera's chest so that her shapely body looked completely modest once more. He smoothed out the creases on the bed with his hands and neatly spread Meera’s scattered hair across the pillow.

Meera remained fast asleep—a faint, satisfied smile lingering on her face. Her lips were parted slightly, a rosy flush gracing her cheeks, looking as though she were basking in the afterglow of an intimate moment with her lover. She had no idea what had transpired with her body over the past twenty minutes.

Sher stood near the doorway, stealing one final glance at her velvety, fair form.

Sher (To himself, with a villainous grin): "Today was just a taste, Madam Ji... my tongue tasted your pussy... my hands squeezed your breasts... but the real fun is yet to come. The day this 7-inch lund goes all the way inside you... that day you will truly forget Sartaj."

He slipped out of the room on tiptoe, closing the door behind him exactly as it had been before. He went into the kitchen, washed the empty glass that had held the pomegranate juice, and placed it back on the rack. Not a single trace of evidence was left.

As he stood in the hallway, a look of sinister triumph gleamed on his face. From the outside, he looked like the same simple, loyal servant waiting for his master to return.

But on the inside... on the inside, he was now a hunter who had tasted his prey… and was merely waiting for the right moment to devour it whole.