Fantasy Mom and them

[Rupakpolo1]

My name is Abhishek. I am going to narrate all the incidents that i have experienced in my childhood. My dad Jayanta was a government Engineer. The whole thing started when my family moved to a village where my dad was posted.

The bungalow we stayed in was huge, with a sprawling garden that seemed to stretch for an eternity. It was like a mini jungle, with trees and shrubs that whispered secrets to each other in the breeze. The air was always filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of chirping birds. Our house was located at the end of a long, dusty road, surrounded by nothing but nature's beauty and simplicity.

My mother, Kakoli, was a beautiful Bengali woman with long, wavy hair that fell like a dark waterfall down her back. Her eyes were warm and inviting, always sparkling with life. She had a way about her that made everyone feel at ease. The villagers adored her, often bringing her gifts of fresh produce from their fields. She had a gentle grace that could tame even the wildest of hearts.

Kamala, our maid, was a short, sturdy woman with a heart as vast as the ocean. Her skin was sun-kissed from years of working under the unforgiving village sun, and her smile was as bright as the first rays of dawn. Every morning, she would arrive with a basket of freshly picked vegetables and a bouquet of flowers, chattering away in her native language while my mother listened with a smile. They had an unusual bond, one that transcended the lines of employer and servant. Kamala had been with us since we moved to the village, and she took care of our home like it was her own. She was always praising my mom’s beauty, often remarking how lucky my father was to have her.

But there was one person who didn’t share the same sentiment as everyone else about my mother’s charm—Raghu, my father’s driver. He was a tall, lanky man with a scruffy beard and a furtive gaze that always made me feel uncomfortable. His eyes often lingered on my mother, and it wasn’t the respectful gaze of admiration that others had. It was something else, something darker. My mother had noticed it too. She had become more withdrawn and less comfortable around him as time went by. I could see it in the way she held herself, the way she’d tighten her sari when he was near, and the way she’d avoid eye contact.

Kamala had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on Raghu, often whispering her concerns to my mother. She had seen the way he looked at her, and she knew it wasn’t right. She didn’t want to cause trouble for my father at work by accusing his driver of something so serious without solid evidence. Plus, she had a strength about her, a belief that she could handle herself. But as the days grew longer and the heat of the summer sun bore down upon us, the tension in our little household grew thicker.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in a fiery glow, Kamala sat with my mother in the cool shade of the veranda. Her eyes grew solemn as she spoke of Raghu and his friends Rafiq and Shambhu. She recounted stories of how they had ruined the lives of several village girls, leaving them with hearts shattered and reputations in tatters. My mother’s expression grew grave as she listened, her hand unconsciously playing with the hem of her sari. She knew she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Mother gathered her courage and approached my father one day after dinner. He was in his study, engrossed in the blueprints sprawled across his desk. She spoke softly but firmly, telling him everything that Kamala had shared. My father looked up from his work, his brow furrowed with concern. He knew the importance of a good driver in a place as remote as this, but he also knew he couldn’t ignore the potential danger lurking in their midst. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples, and said, "Kakoli, I understand your worry, but finding a replacement in this village isn’t easy. People are scarce and trustworthy ones even more so."

He promised to look into it, but his work was demanding and he was often gone for days at a time. The situation grew tense as the days passed, and my mother became increasingly vigilant. She never traveled alone with Raghu, even if it meant inconveniencing herself. Instead, she would send him on errands with Kamala, ensuring she was never left vulnerable. The two women grew closer, united by their silent pact to watch over each other.

[Rupakpolo1]

One afternoon, I heard a faint sound of whispering coming from my mother's room. Curiosity piqued, I approached the half-closed door and listened closely. It was my mom and Kamala, their voices hushed but urgent. "He watched me again today," my mother said, her voice trembling. "While I was changing in the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of his shadow under the door. I know it was him."

Kamala nodded solemnly, her eyes full of empathy. "Ma'am, you must be careful .," she urged, her voice a mix of concern and anger. "Raghu is a snake, and he's slithering too close for comfort."

My mother took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I know," she whispered. "His eyes...it's like he's banging me with his gaze." The words hung heavy in the air, painting a vivid picture of the fear and violation she felt every time Raghu's eyes latched onto her.

The days grew into weeks, and my mother's anxiety grew with each passing moment. Even when we were on the road, traveling in the old, creaky car that Raghu drove, I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror. It was subtle, but it was there—a hungry look that made my skin crawl. He'd watch her every move, his eyes devouring her beauty, his thoughts a dark mystery.

One day, as we were heading to the local market, the car jolted over a pothole, and my mother's sari slipped, revealing a hint of skin. Raghu's gaze lingered just a second too long, and my mother's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. She quickly readjusted her sari, her eyes meeting his in the mirror for a brief moment. In that instant, I saw the fear and desperation in her eyes, and I knew she wasn't just being overly cautious.

Raghu used to take me to college.

The journey was mostly quiet, with only the purr of the car engine and the rustle of the wind through the trees for company. But on the way back home one day, Raghu took a detour, claiming a shortcut. As we turned onto a narrow dirt path, I saw them for the first time—Rafiq and Shambhu. They were leaning against a dilapidated shack, smoking cigarettes and eyeing the car with a knowing smirk. They were rough around the edges, their clothes tattered, and their eyes held a glint that sent a shiver down my spine.

Kamala used to stay in our bungalow from morning to noon. At evening she used to travel back to her house which was in the village few distance away. Raghu used to stay in a servant quarter near to our bungalow. Initially i never had courage to visit his place but one incident change every thing.

One night, I was startled awake by the rustling of leaves outside my window. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, casting eerie shadows across the floor. I lay in bed, my heart racing, as I strained to make out the source of the sound. It grew louder, and then I heard it—the unmistakable footsteps of someone pacing outside.

I held my breath, my heart hammering in my chest. The steps grew closer, and I could feel the presence of someone just beyond the thin barrier of my window pane. I wanted to call out, to scream for my parents, but something held me back—fear, perhaps, or the irrational hope that it was all just a bad dream.

I peered through the curtains, the moonlight casting a silver sheen on the figure moving in the shadows. It was Raghu. His eyes were fixed on the room where my parents slept, and his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides. His gaze was intense, his body coiled like a snake ready to strike. I watched, my young mind racing with a mix of terror and confusion.

Mustering all the courage I had, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed down the corridor, the cold cement sending shivers down my spine. My heart thudded in my ears, drowning out the distant sounds of the village asleep. The door to my parents' room was slightly ajar, the warm glow of their bedside lamp spilling into the hallway. I pushed it open, my eyes widening at the sight before me.

My mother, Kakoli, lay on the bed, her sari discarded in a pool of fabric at her feet. My father, Jayanta, was on top of her, their bodies entwined in a dance as old as time. Her eyes were closed, her face a picture of serenity, and he looked like he was in the throes of passion. I had stumbled upon an intimate moment that I hadn't quite understood, but I knew it was a part of their love.

My heart racing, I retreated back to my room in shame, my thoughts a jumble of confusion and curiosity. I couldn't shake the image from my mind, and it was a secret I carried with me like a burden. It was the first time I had seen my parents in such a light, and it changed the way I saw them, ever so slightly.

The next day, I made up my mind. I had to know more about Raghu and his intentions. After college, I waited for the perfect moment—when the house was quiet, and my mother was busy in the kitchen with the windows open. I slipped out the back door and made my way to Raghu's quarters. His room was a tiny space, barely larger than a closet, with a single bed and a few personal items scattered about. I could feel his presence there, like a palpable force, and I shivered despite the heat.

The window was slightly ajar, letting in the sweet scent of jasmine from the vines that had climbed up the wall. I peeked in, my heart in my throat. Raghu was nowhere to be seen, but his room held a secret that sent my mind racing. On his bedside table, there was a small, worn-out photo album. With trembling hands, I picked it up and began to flip through the pages. The photos were of various women, some smiling, some not, all looking... used. A chill ran down my spine as I realized these were the faces of the village girls he had preyed upon.

I heard a sound and quickly ducked down, my heart hammering in my chest. The door creaked open, and Raghu stepped in. His eyes fell on the open album, and for a split second, I saw fear flicker across his face. But then, he saw me, and the fear turned to rage. He lunged towards me, his hand outstretched, and I stumbled backward, dropping the album in my haste. He grabbed my arm, his grip like a vice. "What do you think you're doing, little boy?" he snarled, his breath hot and sour on my face.

I tried to pull away, my eyes darting around the room for an escape, but his grasp was too strong. He dragged me to the bed, pushing me down onto the mattress. "You're going to keep my secret," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You tell anyone, and you'll regret it." His hand moved towards my throat, and I felt the pressure build as he squeezed. I struggled, my eyes bulging, but his grip only tightened.

"Do you understand?" he growled, his eyes boring into mine. "If you say a word, I'll make sure you won't live to tell the tale." His other hand reached for the album, snatching it from the floor. He held it up, the pages fluttering in the dim light.

My mouth was dry, my heart thudding in my chest like a drum. I nodded, fear clouding my judgment. "Yes, Raghu uncle" I croaked. "I won't tell anyone."

He released my throat, his eyes searching my face for any signs of defiance. He didn't find any. "Good," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Then for a moment, he looked at with his nasty evil smile. "I would like to say one more thing, little boy. You see, your mother is a beautiful woman. You are lucky to have a beautiful mother like her"

He paused for a moment and was going to say some more things to me but he resisted. I did not understand why he said such a thing about my mother all of a sudden.

He leaned down, his face a mere inch from mine. "You're going to learn a lot of new things in the coming few days," he whispered, his breath hot and foul. "Things that will make you understand what it means to be a man." His eyes bore into me, and I nodded again, trying to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

The following days were a blur of fear and anticipation. I avoided Raghu as much as possible, but he was everywhere—driving us around, lurking around the bungalow, his gaze never leaving my mother for too long. I watched him, his every move a silent threat, and I didn't know what he meant. All i can make out that he had something planned.

[Amino]

First update is good

[Rupakpolo1]

One day i saw him with his two friends entering the servant quarter. I could not control my curiosity.

I followed them, keeping a safe distance so as not to be seen. They sat in a circle, passing a bottle of local liquor around. The air was thick with their laughter and lewd comments. They spoke about my mother, Kakoli, their voices low and hungry. My cheeks burned with rage as I heard the words that should never have been spoken about her.

"Look at the way she moves," Rafiq slurred, his eyes glazed. "So graceful, like a deer in the forest. Just waiting to be caught."

Shambhu chuckled, his teeth stained from years of chewing paan. "And those eyes, so innocent, so... ripe."

Rafiq nodded, his lecherous grin widening. "Can you imagine her pink lips wrapped around our cocks?" His tongue darted out, licking his own lips as if he could already taste her.

Shambhu took a swig from the bottle and passed it to Raghu, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Her mouth, so soft and warm," he said, his voice thick with desire. "It'd be heaven to feel those lips sliding down, taking all of us in."

Raghu nodded, his gaze distant, as if he was already seeing the scene play out in his depraved mind. "Her eyes," he murmured, his hand moving to his crotch, "those big, scared eyes looking up at us, begging for mercy while she chokes on our cocks."

Rafiq leaned in, his eyes shining with excitement. "And her body," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "so soft and delicate. Like a freshly plucked flower, waiting to be crushed under our weight."

Shambhu let out a low whistle, his eyes glinting with greed. "Her breasts," he said, cupping his hands in the air, "so full and ripe, bouncing with every moan she makes."

Rafiq leaned back against the wall, his hand sliding down his shirt to his pants. "And those pink nipples," he groaned, his eyes half-closed, "so sweet and sensitive, just begging for a bite."

Shambhu took the bottle from Raghu, his hand shaking with excitement. "Her skin," he said, his voice a low growl, "so soft and smooth, like fresh milk. The way it'd feel against our bare chests as we take turns pumping into her tight, wet pussy."

Rafiq nodded, his eyes glazed with lust. "Yeah," he agreed, "and she's gotta have a tight one. You know how these high-class bitches are, saving it all for their husband."

Shambhu laughed, his eyes on the bottle as he took another swig. "Fuck her husband," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're going to show her what real men are like."

Rafiq leaned in, his grin turning predatory. "We'll make her anniversary a night she'll never forget," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We'll give her the kind of celebration she deserves."

Shambhu's laughter grew louder, echoing through the small room. "But first," he said, slapping Raghu on the back, "we need to make sure the engineer doesn't come home." Raghu nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving the bottle of alcohol as it made its way around the circle. His mind was racing, thinking of ways to ensure that my father would be detained.

Rafiq, the cleverest of the three, spoke up with an idea. "Why don't we cause some trouble at the worksite?" he suggested, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "A small 'accident' would keep him busy for hours, maybe even the whole night." The other two men grinned, the plan already taking shape in their minds.

Shambhu added, "Yeah, and we can say it's urgent, that we need him to come right away." Raghu nodded thoughtfully. "It's worth a shot," he said, his hand still resting on his crotch as if he was already imagining something.

Their conversation grew more heated, their voices rising in excitement as they plotted. I crouched there, my heart hammering against my ribs, my mind racing to understand the depth of their depravity. They were going to hurt my mother, use her, and then discard her like a piece of trash. The thought made me sick. I had to tell someone, but who? I couldn't tell my father, not without proof. And what if they found out I knew?

Raghu's eyes grew more intense as he spoke. "We need more than just a night," he said, his gaze flicking to the calendar on the wall. "We need to plan this right.”

It was true my mom and dad anniversary was near. I heard them talking about it. I was not sure how Raghu came to hear about this. It may happened that he had overheard the conversation of my parents. I did not disclose anything about this discussion to my parents. It may be because I was naive enough to understand what Raghu was planning.

Finally our parents anniversary day came. My dad went to working site as usual like other days. Mom wanted dad to stay at home on that day but my dad said he can't do that but promised my mom he will be back soon. My mom seemed excited all day. She cleaned all our rooms and cooked good food for us but my dad did not return from site as expected. She got upset about all this. Kamala told my mom before she left-‘ Bhabhi...dont get upset... Engineer Saheb must have got busy with his work...he will come soon‘.

I saw her crying when my dad did not return by evening.

I asked mom - ' Why are you crying mom'

Mom sighed and said - ‘Work is important to your dad instead of us‘.

Mom had gone to great lengths to prepare for the day. She had worn a stunning red Benarasi sari that she had bought during our last trip to Kolkata. The intricate gold and silver threads woven into the fabric caught the light, giving it a mesmerizing glow. The blouse was tight, hugging her full breasts, making them look like two ripe mangoes waiting to be plucked. Her fair skin was flawless, glowing from the light dusting of powder she had applied, and her eyes were lined with kajal, making them appear even more alluring than usual.

But it was her rosy lips that truly stood out. They were the color of freshly picked raspberries, a perfect shade that made me wonder if she had stolen a bit of the setting sun's beauty for herself. The lipstick she had chosen was a deep red, the kind that seemed to whisper secrets and promises in the most intimate of moments. It was the same shade she wore on special occasions, and every time I saw her with it on, I knew something important was happening.

As the night grew darker and my dad's absence grew heavier, I could see the hope in my mother's eyes slowly fading. She tried to put on a brave face, telling us she was sure he'd be home soon, but I could see the cracks in her armor. Her eyes searched the horizon, willing him to appear, but all she was met with was the indifferent stare of the stars.

Little did we know, the three men had been watching our house from the shadows of the night, their hunger for her growing with each passing moment. They had bided their time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce. And tonight, with my father's unexpected absence, it had arrived.

Mom's eyes searched the room, looking for something to distract herself from the sadness that had settled in. She picked up a book from the bedside table, her fingers tracing the spine without really seeing the title. "Why don't you go have your dinner?" she suggested, her voice brittle. "I'll wait up for your father."

I nodded, my stomach churning with unease. As I made my way to the dining room, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The house felt eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional chirp of a night cricket. The food lay untouched on the table, growing cold and forgotten.

It was much later, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, that I heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine approaching. I sat up in bed and decided to check who it was.

I tiptoed to the window, peering through the curtains. The headlights of the car swept across the garden, illuminating the house with an eerie glow. I watched as my mother, still dressed in her stunning sari, walked out onto the porch.

"Switch off the lights," she called out, shielding her eyes from the harsh beam.

The engine cut off, and the world was plunged into darkness. The headlights of the car remained on, casting a ghostly pallor on the porch and blinding my mother as she stepped out into the night. I held my breath, watching from the safety of my bedroom window.

"Raghu?" she called out, squinting against the brightness. "Is that you?"

[Krishna11]

Waiting for big update

[Givemeextra]

Was this already posted in this site? The title looks familiar?
Just Asking.....

[Rupakpolo1]

Not sure about title. I did not get better story name.story is mine.

[garamrohan]

Welcome back Rupakpolo, the legendary writer!!!

You don't need introduction to long time lovers of cuckold/voyeur son theme lovers. I believe you were few of earliest writers in the genre with your epic stories : bad seeds, Village of the damned etc.

It was treat to read the corruption of beautiful and pious mother Kakoli through her son's lenses from your stories.

I feel this story as well, will live up to the fan's expectation.


Thanks for the comeback.


P.S. Requesting all the fans to keep giving feedback to support and motivate the author.

[Amino]

Fantastic update bro looks like mom will have a memoriable anniversary hehe

[lou12]

Rupakda is a legend. Village of the damned, Maa ke Sanjayer Baba, Biyebarite Maake ******, Amar Bondini Maa…. all of his stories were and still are my favourites.
“Kalo Bari” was one of his most memorable works, though, forever lost.
Glad to see you back.

[garamrohan]

Rupakda is a legend. Village of the damned, Maa ke Sanjayer Baba, Biyebarite Maake ******, Amar Bondini Maa…. all of his stories were and still are my favourites.
“Kalo Bari” was one of his most memorable works, though, forever lost.
Glad to see you back.

Yeah absolutely. I sometimes wish I could read bengali so that I could have read his many bengali stories.

[Tutelage]

great update
wanna more

[Givemeextra]

Rupakda is a legend. Village of the damned, Maa ke Sanjayer Baba, Biyebarite Maake ******, Amar Bondini Maa…. all of his stories were and still are my favourites.
“Kalo Bari” was one of his most memorable works, though, forever lost.

Oh Nice, did not know these.

[Rupakpolo1]

The car door creaked open, and the shadows grew taller as the men emerged from the vehicle. My heart hammered in my chest as I recognized Raghu, Rafiq, and Shambhu. They approached the house with a swagger, their faces hidden in the darkness, their intentions all too clear.

Mom's voice trembled as she called out again, "Raghu, where's your saheb What are you doing here?" Her eyes searched the shadows, trying to make sense of the figures that stumbled towards her.

Raghu stepped into the light, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Your husband," he said, his words slurred by the alcohol, "he had some... unfortunate delays. He won't be home tonight."

My mother's eyes widened in shock and fear. "What do you mean?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Raghu took a step closer, his smile widening. "Don't worry," he said, his tone mocking, "We're here to keep you company." Rafiq and Shambhu chuckled in the background, their forms looming larger as they approached the porch.

Mom asked Raghu- ' who are they?' pointing towards Rafiq and Shambhu. Raghu replied with a leer - ' They are my friends, they want to wish you happy anniversary too'.

But my mother wasn’t fooled. She tried to run but they were too quick. They grabbed her from behind, their rough hands on her soft skin making her squirm in fear. Rafiq and Shambhu held her arms tightly, their grins wicked in the moonlight. Raghu stepped closer, his hand covering her mouth, muffling the screams that she tried to let out.

"Be a good girl, Kakoli," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and heavy with the stench of alcohol. "Don't make a sound, or it'll be your son's life on the line."

The words hit her like a sledgehammer, and she froze, her eyes wide with horror. The thought of anything happening to me was enough to silence her protests. They dragged her towards the car.

"Come on, Kakoli," Raghu cooed, his voice a mockery of kindness. "We've got a surprise for you. A little party to make this anniversary one you'll never forget." His grin was wide, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

My mother's body was a taut bow, her eyes darting wildly around, looking for a way to escape. But Rafiq and Shambhu had her firmly in their grasp, their laughter echoing in the still night air. They pushed her towards the car, her feet stumbling in the gravel.

Raghu held the door open with a flourish, his smile a twisted mirror of the one he reserved for when he talked to my mother in the day. "Your chariot awaits, Rani," he jeered, his hand shoving her into the back seat. I watched in horror as she struggled, trying to fight back, but she was no match for their combined strength.

The engine roared to life, and the car lurched forward, gravel spitting out from beneath the tires. My heart raced as the taillights grew smaller, swallowed by the inky blackness of the night. They had taken my mother, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

I realized the car was heading towards the servant quarter, the very place where I had overheard their vile conversation. Panic gripped me as the reality of their plan dawned on me. I had to act fast. Without thinking twice, I came out of the bungalow and started running towards the servant quarter.

As I approached, I could see the car parked a few feet away, the engine purring ominously. My heart was in my throat as I peered inside, expecting to find my mother but she wasn't there.

The door to Raghu's room stood ajar, and from within, I could hear muffled cries, the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. I could make out it was my mother's voice. There was darkness all around the servant quarter. With trembling feet, i went inside and peek into the room from where the noise was coming.

My stomach lurched as I saw Rafiq and Shambhu holding my mother, their hands roving over her body with the same casualness one might use to handle a piece of meat at the butcher's. Her blouse was torn, the delicate fabric shredded like paper, exposing her full, round breasts to the cold night air. Her sari was in a state of disarray, pulled up to her waist, revealing her white, milky thighs that Raghu was caressing with a greed that made me sick.

Mom's face was a mask of terror, her eyes wide with shock and pain as she stared at the men surrounding her. Raghu was on his knees, tugging at her petticoat, his lecherous gaze never leaving the treasure hidden beneath it. I could see the sweat beading on his forehead, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he worked to expose her.

The room was a cocoon of darkness, the only light coming from a flickering candle on the nightstand. The shadows danced across the walls, painting a macabre tableau of the scene unfolding before me. The stench of their sweat and alcohol mixed with the faint scent of my mother's perfume, the sweetness of jasmine now tainted by their lust.

I watched in horror as Rafiq and Shambhu bound my mother's wrists with a coarse rope, their grunts of exertion punctuating the heavy silence. They were like beasts, each movement calculated to inflict maximum fear and discomfort. Her hands were shaking as she tried to resist, her nails digging into the wooden bedpost, leaving little half-moons of desperation.

The bed creaked as they hoisted her onto the mattress, her legs still kicking out in a futile attempt to fight them off. Raghu's eyes never left her, his pupils dilated with excitement as he took in the sight of her struggling against his friends' hold. The candlelight flickered across their faces, casting monstrous shadows that danced on the walls.

I watched, rooted to the spot, as they secured the ropes around her wrists, the rough fibers biting into her delicate skin. Tears streamed down my mother's cheeks, leaving dark trails on her once-perfect makeup. Her breaths came in quick, panicked gasps as she tried to plead with them, her words lost in the fabric gag they had shoved into her mouth.

"Now, now," Raghu said, his voice thick with malice, "we don't want to ruin the mood, do we?" He reached up and yanked the gag out of her mouth, her teeth clicking together as she gasped for air. "You can scream if you want," he offered, "but remember, your son is there in the bungalow" He nodded in the direction of the bungalow , his smile a twisted knot of evil. "If you make too much noise, I might just have to go pay him a little visit."

My mom voice trembled as she begged Raghu, "Please, please leave him."

Raghu leaned in closer, his breath hot against her cheek. "Do you remember the first day I saw you, Kakoli?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "When you stepped out of that train with your hubby, so elegant and beautiful? That's when I knew you were going to be mine." His hand trailed down her body, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "This," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "has been a long time coming."

I remember the day we met Raghu as if it were yesterday. The train had pulled into the station, a cloud of dust and diesel fumes billowing around it. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the platform with a relentless heat that made the metal benches sizzle. My mother, dressed in a simple yet elegant white sari with blue border, had stepped out of the carriage, her eyes scanning the place looking for my dad. Dad came to this village before us.

Raghu was there, leaning against a dilapidated car, his eyes locked onto her from the moment she appeared.

He was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to take it. His hand reached out and he rubbed his palm over her face, his rough calloused skin a stark contrast to her softness. His touch was like sandpaper on a freshly painted canvas, marring the perfection that was my mother's skin.

"Look at you," Raghu murmured, his eyes feasting on her. "So beautiful. I've never seen anything like you in this shithole of a village." His voice was a mix of awe and greed, like a child discovering a hidden treasure trove of sweets.

Rafiq and Shambhu echoed the same sentiment, their leering smiles mirror images of each other. They both reached out, their rough hands caressing my mother's body in a way that made my stomach churn. Their eyes were hungry, their gazes moving over her as if they were memorizing every inch of her, savoring the sight like it was the last meal they'd ever have.

"You see, Kakoli," Raghu said, his voice thick with lust, "we've been waiting for this moment for so long." He leaned in closer, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "We're going to taste what's only been reserved for your husband."

Mom's sobs grew louder, her body trembling as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her eyes searched the room wildly, looking for anything that could help her escape. But there was nothing, just the cold, hard reality that she was at the mercy of these depraved men.

"Kakoli," Raghu chuckled, his voice thick with satisfaction, "there's no need to cry." He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his touch a vile parody of comfort. "You just need to cooperate, and we'll all have a good time."

Raghu leaned in closer, his finger trailing down her neck to her collarbone. His eyes never left hers as he reached her mouth, lingering just above her lips.
Her eyes filled with fear and despair. He used his finger to trace the red line of her lipstick, before sliding it into his mouth with a lewd sucking sound. "Mmm," he moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Waiting so long to taste your lips." He bought his mouth near my mother's face and opened his mouth to put his lips over my mom's lipstick smeared lips sucking it with pleasure and roamed his tongue all over her lips.

My mom's lips soon become wet with his saliva.Their kiss was a tempest of desperation and fear, a battle of wills that played out on the canvas of their trembling bodies.

His tongue forced its way into her mouth, a slick, invasive presence that she tried to fight with her own. Her teeth clenched, her jaw tightened, but his persistence was unyielding. Raghu’s thumb and forefinger dug into her cheeks, keeping her mouth open as if she were a mere object to be used, not a person with feelings and dignity.
After sucking her lips till his thirst quench, Raghu looked at Rafiq with a wicked smile inviting them to join the fun.

One by one, Rafiq and Shambhu stepped forward, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. They each took turns pressing their greasy, unwelcome lips to my mother's, tasting her fear and the desperation she wore like a scent. Her body jerked with each forced kiss.

Rafiq's thick mustache brushed against her cheek as he leaned in, his teeth grazing her lower lip. He groaned in pleasure, savoring the taste of her lipstick. Shambhu was next, his breath hot and sour as he crushed her mouth with his, his tongue pushing its way past her teeth. Mom's eyes were squeezed shut, her body rigid with repulsion.

The taste of her lipstick seemed to drive them wild. Raghu chuckled, watching his friends feast on my mother's unwilling kisses. "See?" he whispered into her ear. "We all get a taste."

I saw three men tasting my mother's saliva, relishing the taste of it. After those kisses, I saw her lipstick was no longer present on her lips. Her lipstick which she had applied to celebrate the special night with my dad was now a smudged mess around her mouth, a stark symbol of the way those three men were erasing it with every sickening suck and probe of their tongue.

Raghu's hand slid down to her waist, his thumb brushing against her skin, leaving a smear of red in its wake. "But the real fun starts now”-he chuckled.

With a grunt, Raghu stood up, his eyes never leaving my mother's face. He reached for the knot of his pants, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. The sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he pulled out his erect penis, thick and veiny, standing tall against the candlelight.

He leaned in closer, his hand snaking its way between my mother's legs. She squirmed, trying to clamp her thighs shut, but he was too strong. With a cruel laugh, he spread her legs further apart, exposing her most intimate area to their leering gazes.

Raghu's hand was rough, his calloused fingers digging into her soft skin as he sought out the warm, wet heat of her pussy. His eyes never left hers as he touched her, his pupils dilating with excitement as he felt her body's involuntary response to his unwelcome intrusion.

Mom's eyes squeezed shut, and she bit down on her lower lip to stifle a whimper. Her skin was like silk beneath his touch, her thighs trembling as he parted them even further.

Rafiq and Shambhu watched Raghu's every move with hungry eyes, their own hands moving to their clothes. The buttons on Rafiq's shirt popped open one by one, revealing a hairy, muscular chest. His pants fell to the floor, and his cock sprang free, thick and veiny, with a glistening drop of pre-cum at the tip. It was a beastly sight, a stark contrast to my mother's refined beauty.

Shambhu was next, his body a leaner frame compared to Rafiq's bulk. His cock was longer, more like a serpent than Rafiq's, and it curved slightly to the left, giving it a sinister appearance. The skin was a shade darker than the rest of his body, as if it had been stained by years of lust and depravity.

With a twisted grin, Raghu gestured to Rafiq and Shambhu. "Look at them, Kakoli," he said, his voice thick with excitement. "Look at what you're going to have inside you. Tell me, how does it feel to know that you're going to be the center of our little party?"

Mom's eyes remained squeezed shut, her body trembling with fear and revulsion. Raghu's hand was still between her legs, his fingers probing her, his thumb circling the delicate bud of her clit. Despite herself, she couldn't help but react, a small whimper escaping her lips.

"Look at her," Rafiq growled, his eyes glazed with lust as he took in the sight of my mother's vulnerable state. "She's already wet for us."

Raghu's grin grew wider as he stepped back, revealing my mother's exposed lower body. The red sari and white petticoat lay in a pool around her waist, the fabric stark against the dark wooden floor. Her skin was pale, almost translucent in the flickering candlelight, and the thatch of hair between her legs was a stark contrast to the rest of her pristine beauty.

Rafiq's eyes were glued to the sight, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He stepped closer, his cock bobbing in anticipation. "Let me see," he demanded, his voice gruff and impatient.

Raghu chuckled, his eyes never leaving my mother's face as he pulled the sari and petticoat down from her waist. The fabric slithered down her legs, leaving her naked from the waist down. The candlelight danced across her skin, highlighting the soft curve of her stomach, the shadowy cleft of her sex.

With a sadistic twist of his wrist, Raghu spread my mother's pussy lips, revealing the delicate pink flesh beneath. He held her open, as one might present a precious jewel to a buyer. "Look at this," he said, his voice dripping with lust as he turned to Rafiq. "Isn't she just divine?"

Rafiq's eyes bulged as he took in the sight, his cock pulsing with excitement. "Nicest pussy I've ever seen," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He stepped closer, his breathing heavy and ragged.

[Amino]

Nice update bro they made their move and now they'll use her

[lou12]

can’t wait for next update. this is going to be your opus magnum, Rupakda. how long do we have to wait?

[Veerasammy1]

welcome back been way too long looking forward to reading up if need ideas you can always message me been following your work form multiple platform.

[Milfaddict]

Very hot episodes, excellent narration, please continue

[whocarez]

please update. Involve the son too!

[Rupakpolo1]

Shambhu, unable to contain himself, reached out and cupped one of my mother's breasts, his thumb and forefinger teasing the erect nipple. Mom's eyes snapped open, her pupils wide with fear and disgust. She tried to twist away, but Raghu's grip on her was like a vice, keeping her in place.

Shambhu leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out and licking the salty trail of her lipstick spread all across her lips and cheeks. His breath was hot and moist against her skin, his eyes never leaving hers as he savored the taste of her fear.

"You're so sweet, Kakoli," he murmured, his voice a serrated whisper that made her skin crawl. "But I think it's time we had some real fun." He stepped aside, revealing Raghu standing over her, his cock in hand, stroking it with a vigor that spoke of his eagerness.

Rafiq and Shambhu held her down, their grips tightening on her arms as Raghu positioned himself between her legs. She could feel his coarse manhood nudging at her entrance, the blunt head pressing against the tender folds of her sex. Her body tensed, her muscles clenched in an instinctual refusal.

The first thrust was painful, his penis pushing through her resistance like a knife through butter. She bit her lip hard to muffle the scream that threatened to escape, her eyes watering with pain. Raghu's eyes bore into hers, a sadistic glint in them as he reveled in her agony. Her body felt like it was being torn apart, stretched beyond its limits.

"Look at her, Rafiq, Shambhu," Raghu said, his voice thick with triumph. "Just look how tight she is."

He pulled back and thrust into her again, the sound of their bodies meeting echoing through the room. My mother's eyes were wide with shock and pain, but she remained silent, her cries of protest trapped in her throat.

Raghu's friends watched, their own arousal growing as they laughed and jeered, making lewd comments about my father Jayanta.

"Look at her," Rafiq chuckled, "she's so tight, your engineer husband must have a tiny thing."

Shambhu snickered, his eyes never leaving my mother's face. "Yeah, probably can't even satisfy her."

My mother's eyes flashed with anger at the mention of my father, but she remained silent, her jaw clenched tightly. Raghu's thrusts grew more forceful, his breath coming in ragged pants as he claimed her body.

"Is that true, Kakoli?" Rafiq goaded, his own cock now freed from his pants. "Does your husband leave you wanting more?" He leaned in, his breath hot and sour against her cheek. "Or maybe you've been waiting for a real man to show you what it's like?"

Shambhu's hand tightened around her breast, twisting the nipple cruelly. "I bet you've dreamt of this," he jeered. "A real cock that knows what to do."

Raghu's rhythm grew more erratic, his strokes becoming more frenzied as he approached climax. Mom's eyes squeezed shut, and she bit down hard on the fabric of the gag, her body jerking with every thrust. The room was a symphony of sickening sounds - the slap of skin on skin, the grunts and groans of the men, the whimpers and muffled cries of my mother.

The other two men, Rafiq and Shambhu, watched with rapt attention, their hands moving over their own erections. They were like vultures circling a dying animal, waiting for their turn to feast. Raghu's hands moved up to Mom's breasts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he played with her nipples. He leaned down, his mouth finding hers again, his tongue pushing past her teeth to explore her mouth, tasting her fear and desperation.

Her eyes were still squeezed shut, but I could see the tears leaking out from the corners, trailing down her cheeks like rivers of pain. The candlelight flickered across the room, casting shadows that danced over the scene, making it seem almost otherworldly.

Rafiq was the first to break the silence, his voice strained with desperation. "Come on, Raghu," he said, his hand tightening on my mother's thigh. "Let me have a taste." His words were a grating sound, like nails on a chalkboard.

Shambhu's grip on my mother's arm grew painfully tight as he glared at Rafiq. "Hold your horses," he snarled. "I'm going next."

Rafiq's desperation grew palpable, his hand moving faster on his erection as he watched Raghu's thrusts become more erratic. "Come on," he whined, "you've had her for long enough. Let's share the fun."

But Raghu was too lost in his own depraved pleasure to care about their impatience. He leaned down, his teeth grazing my mother's earlobe. "You're mine," he growled, his voice low and animalistic. "MINE!"

With a snarl of frustration, Raghu slapped Mom's face, the sound echoing through the room. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him, shock and pain mixing on her features. "Now, now," he murmured, his voice soothing despite the violence of his actions. "Let's not spoil the mood."

He turned to Rafiq and Shambhu, his own excitement barely contained. "Why don't you two go to the other room and help yourself to some drinks?" He suggested with a smug smile. "Your turn will come soon enough."

I took the opportunity to retreat, my legs shaking with fear and anger. I stumbled out of the servant quarter, my heart racing in my chest. I had to get help, had to find a way to save my mother from the monsters that had invaded our lives.

I crouched behind a large bush, my heart pounding in my ears. The night was cold, the moon casting eerie shadows across the lawn. My eyes searched for any sign of life, any hope of salvation. And then I saw them, Rafiq and Shambhu, staggering out of the room, their pants undone and a bottle of alcohol in hand. Their faces were flushed with excitement, their eyes gleaming with the victory of their vile conquest.

"Damn it, Raghu," Rafiq grumbled, his voice thick with irritation. "You're taking too long in there." His hand moved restlessly, stroking his erection with a greedy hunger. "It's our turn."

Shambhu, his eyes still glued to the closed door of Raghu's room, took a swig from the bottle they'd brought with them. "Hold your horses, Rafiq," he said, his voice low and almost gentle. "Look at her, she's like a delicate porcelain doll. If you go in there now, you're just going to break her."

Rafiq snorted, his hand still wrapped around his cock. "What's the fun in that?" he sneered. "I want to hear her scream."

Shambhu shot him a sharp look. "You'll get your turn," he said firmly. "But let's not ruin her completely. We want to enjoy this, remember?"

Rafiq's frustration was palpable, his hand tightening around the bottle until his knuckles turned white. "Fine," he spat, taking a swig and passing the bottle to Shambhu. "But I'm not waiting much longer."

Shambhu took a swig too, the alcohol burning a path down his throat. He leaned against the wall, watching the door with a predatory gaze. "Patience, Rafiq," he murmured, his voice a mix of warning and promise. "We need to give her time to...adjust."

Rafiq snarled, but his hand stilled on his shaft. "Fine," he gritted out. "But she better be ready when I go in."

Shambhu nodded, his gaze still on the door. "She will be," he assured, his voice taking on a darker edge. "We'll give her just enough time to recover before we start again."

The minutes stretched on like hours, each second an eternity of horror. From my hiding spot, I strained to hear any sign that my mother had somehow escaped or was fighting back. But all I could make out was the rhythmic thumping of the mattress and the grunts of Raghu's exertion. Shambhu and Rafiq was silently listening to that.Then, the sound of my mother's muffled cries grew louder, turning into a keening wail that pierced the night air.

Rafiq looked up from his drink, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Sounds like she's really getting into it," he leered at Shambhu. "Must be having the orgasm of her life."

Shambhu nodded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Let's go see," he suggested, taking one last swig from the bottle before setting it down. "Make sure she's still in one piece for us."

The two men sauntered back into the room, the door swinging wide open, revealing the dimly lit space. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to witness. My heart thudded in my chest like a wild animal desperate to escape as I edged closer to the door, my eyes peeled for any movement.

Through the crack, I could see Raghu, still thrusting into my mother, his face a mask of twisted pleasure. The candlelight flickered over their entwined bodies, casting elongated shadows on the wall. Mom's eyes were squeezed shut, her body a canvas of pain and violation. There were sign of rough love all around her naked body.

"Why are you two still here?" Raghu's voice was gruff, his breaths coming in short, harsh bursts. "I'm not done with her yet."

Shambhu and Rafiq exchanged a quick glance before shrugging and backing away from the bed, their expressions a mix of frustration and eagerness. They knew better than to interrupt Raghu when he was in the throes of passion. They stepped aside, allowing me a clearer view of the horrific scene playing out before me.

"Just don't wear her out," Rafiq said, his voice thick with lust. "I want her to scream for me too." His eyes never left my mother's trembling body, his hand moving back to his crotch to adjust his own arousal.

Raghu's grin was wicked as he watched them, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that made my stomach turn. He was mauling my mother's breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples in a way that had to be painful. Her body was arched off the bed, the cords in her neck standing out as she struggled to muffle her cries. The sight of his big, glistening cock moving inside her womanhood made me dizzy.

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way past her clenched teeth. When he pulled away, he was panting, his eyes wild with desire. "Now, Kakoli," he ordered, his voice thick with lust. "It's time for you to entertain my friend."

My mother's eyes were wide with horror, but she knew the consequences of defying him. She looked from Raghu to Rafiq and Shambhu, their faces twisted in anticipation. Raghu's grip on her chin was unyielding as he directed her gaze to Rafiq's erection. "Look," he murmured, stroking the side of her face with a sickening tenderness. "Rafiq wants to see your mouth do more than just scream."

Mom's eyes darted back to Raghu, pleading for mercy that was not forthcoming. He released her chin and send gesture to Rafiq to come near to them. "Go on," he urged looking at mom, his voice a dark whisper. "Show him how good you can be."

Her voice trembled as she spoke through the gag. "Please, Raghu," she begged, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't want this. Please, stop." Her words were barely audible, but the desperation in them was clear.

Raghu's grin was cold, his eyes gleaming with malice. "But, Kakoli, You're the one who's been teasing us all these months. Now it's time to pay the price for your beauty."

He leaned down, whispering into her ear. "You're going to suck Rafiq's cock like you've never sucked anyone else's. You're going to make him feel like a king. Do you understand?" His voice was a mix of sweetness and steel, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Mom's eyes widened in horror as Rafiq approached the bed, his cock jutting out before him like a weapon. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, his teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "You've been holding out on us, Kakoli," he said, his voice a low growl. "But we're going to change that."

Shambhu moved behind Raghu, his own cock standing at attention. "We're going to show you what it's like to serve three men at once," he murmured, his breath hot against the back of my mother's neck. "You're going to love it."