[Suresh@123]

Kamal opened the video in that video Day 1 tittle appeared. But intro scene is Athidhi is being finger fucked by both

Gupta and Rahul...

Now immediately the scene disappeared. But initially the island scenery appeared later Both Gupta and Rahul

convinced her as she accepted proposal to send shailaja to Kamal here she will submit to both.





o keep her promise as I send my wife to your husband.. Now it's our turn.


"From now to 3 days your our control.. We can fuck you where ever.. So you have to obey to our orders."



They both came near Adhithi she is in high panic and arousal... They both blindfolds her and let her

Kamal's heart raced... Now they how they will do his sweet little beautiful Athidi.

" Gupta told " I know baby you are arrogant.. Now we will break your arrogance. " she shivered with that word...

[Suresh@123]

The private villa on the secluded island felt like another world entirely—waves crashing faintly outside, the air

heavy with salt and the faint scent of coconut oil from earlier massages. Every light in the sprawling master

bedroom was on: ceiling spots, wall sconces, bedside lamps, even the recessed LEDs along the baseboards.

The room was flooded in bright, clinical white light, no shadows anywhere to hide. Athidi, , already knew

she had crossed a line when she whispered “anything” to Gupta and Rahul earlier that evening over on

. Now she was paying for it in the most exquisite, terrifying way.

They had led her inside blindfolded from the start—black silk tied so tightly she couldn’t even see the faintest

glow around the edges. Her wrists were already locked in soft leather cuffs, arms stretched high and clipped

to the heavy iron ring bolted into the headboard. Ankles similarly secured to the foot of the bed with

spreader bars, forcing her thighs wide apart. She was completely naked, skin still warm from the day’s sun,

nipples already pebbled from nerves and the cool air-conditioning.

Gupta moved with deliberate calm. Rahul, leaner, quicker, more teasing, circled like he was savoring every

second. Neither spoke much at first. They let the silence and the sound of her own breathing fill the room.

A soft mechanical click—four hidden 4K cameras coming online, lenses perfectly aligned, memory cards

empty and waiting. Tiny infrared indicators covered so no red glow would betray them. Every bead of sweat,

every tremor, every flutter of her lashes against the blindfold would be captured in merciless ultra-high

definition.


Gupta picked up the first toy: a slim, flexible purple vibrator, no thicker than two fingers, with a pronounced curve.






He switched it on low. The faint bzzzz filled the room like distant thunder.

Athidi’s head jerked toward the sound. “Haaaaaaa… what… what is that…?”

Rahul knelt beside her head, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Shhh… just feel, baby. You said

anything.”

Gupta dragged the buzzing tip slowly up the inside of her left thigh—never quite reaching where she was

already aching. She squirmed, hips lifting instinctively.

“Nooooo… please… don’t tease… haaaaa…”

He circled closer, then finally—light as a feather—touched the vibrator to the hood of her clit, just resting

there, letting the low vibration sink in.

“HAAAAAAAAA… oh god… oh fuck… too soon… haaaaaaaa…”

Rahul leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers rolled the other. Gupta

increased the speed one notch.

Her first orgasm built in under two minutes—fast, almost embarrassing. Thighs quivered, stomach clenched

tight.

“Nooooo… I’m gonna… haaaaa… please slow… haaaaaaaa… no no no no…”

She came with a sharp, broken cry, hips bucking so violently the cuffs rattled against the headboard.

“HAAAAAAAAA… cummiiiiing… haaaaa… ohhh godddd… haaaaaaaa…”










They gave her exactly five minutes of reprieve. No touching, just the sound of her panting.

Then Rahul replaced the slim vibe with a thicker one—ridged, eight inches long, slightly flexible. He coated it

generously with lube despite her already dripping state, then slowly—inch by torturous inch—pushed it inside

her.

“NOOOOOO… too big… haaaaa… stretch… oh fuck… haaaaaaaa…”

He turned it on medium, angling the curved head directly against her g-spot. Gupta, meanwhile, brought the

Hitachi magic wand—the big, white, demon of a vibrator—and simply laid it flat against her clit, no pressure

yet, just letting the weight and the buzz settle.

“HAAAAAAAA… both… no… can’t handle… haaaaa… please… mercy… haaaaaaaa…”


Rahul pumped the ridged toy in slow, deep strokes while Gupta finally pressed the wand down harder.

Her second climax arrived like a freight train. She screamed into the pillow, body convulsing, wrists yanking

so hard the leather creaked.

“NOOOOOO… again… haaaaa… cummiiiing… haaaaaaaa… stop… I can’t… haaaaa… please… no more…

haaaaaaaa…”

Tears soaked the blindfold. Her chest heaved. They still didn’t stop.

Gupta removed the wand momentarily, letting her gasp, then returned with something new: a remote-

controlled bullet vibe. He slipped it inside alongside the ridged dildo, nestling it right against her front wall,

then handed the remote to Rahul.

Rahul grinned, thumb hovering. “Ready?”

“Nooooo… don’t… haaaaa…”

He pressed the button—high.

“HAAAAAAAAA… inside… buzzing… oh fuck fuck fuck… haaaaaaaa…”

Gupta straddled her waist now, not entering her yet, just leaning down to suck bruises into her neck while his

fingers pinched and twisted her nipples in time with the vibrations.

Third orgasm hit her so hard she squirted—a sudden, hot gush that soaked Rahul’s hand and the sheets

beneath.


“NOOOOOO… squirting… haaaaa… I’m sorry… haaaaaaaa… can’t stop… haaaaa… please… haaaaaaaa…”





Later five minutes given rest.


They flipped her carefully onto her stomach—cuffs released only long enough to rotate her, then ankles and

wrists re-secured so her ass was high, knees spread wide on the mattress, face pressed sideways into the

pillow.

Gupta knelt behind her. He lubed a small-sized vibrating anal plug—ridged, with a wide flared base—and

pressed the tip slowly against her tight ring.

“Nooooo… not there… haaaaa… please… I’ve never… haaaaaaaa…”

“Relax,” he murmured, voice calm. “Breathe.”

He worked it in gradually, twisting, pausing every time she tensed, until it finally popped past the ring and

settled deep.


The moment it was fully seated he switched it on—low pulsing at first.

“HAAAAAAAA… in my ass… vibrating… oh godddd… haaaaa… too full… haaaaaaaa…”

Rahul slid underneath her on his back, mouth latching onto her swollen clit, tongue flicking mercilessly while

his fingers reached up to spread her open wider for better access.

Gupta pressed the magic wand against her clit from above now, sandwiching it between the wand and

Rahul’s mouth.

Dual vibration—ass and clit—plus Rahul’s tongue.


“NOOOOOO… both holes… mouth… haaaaa… I’m breaking… haaaaaaaa… please… no… haaaaa… can’t breathe…

haaaaaaaa…”

Fourth orgasm tore through her like wildfire. She sobbed openly, voice hoarse and cracking, body shaking so

violently the entire bed frame groaned.

“HAAAAAAAA… cummiiiing… again… haaaaa… kill me… haaaaaaaa… mercy… no more… haaaaa… please…

haaaaaaaa…”
.
They let her come down for almost a full minute—only the anal plug still buzzing softly inside her.

Then Gupta shed his clothes at last. Thick, heavy cock already leaking. He positioned himself behind her,

removed the anal plug slowly (making her whimper at the sudden emptiness), then lined himself up at her

soaked entrance.


One long, unrelenting thrust—burying himself to the hilt.

“NOOOOOO… so deep… haaaaa… full… oh fuck… haaaaaaaa…”

He started fucking her hard—deep, punishing strokes that slapped against her ass with every thrust. Rahul

stayed beneath, magic wand pressed firmly to her clit again, tongue occasionally darting out to lick where

they joined.

The fifth climax built slower this time—devastatingly intense. Her whole body locked up, muscles seizing,

voice reduced to raw, animalistic whimpers.

“HAAAAAAAA… too much… haaaaa… gonna… haaaaaaaa… no no no… cummiiiing… haaaaa… squirting again…

haaaaaaaa… please… stop… haaaaa… I can’t… haaaaaaaa…”

She exploded—violent, full-body convulsions, squirting in rhythmic pulses that drenched Rahul’s face and

chest.




Gupta groaned low in his throat, thrusts turning erratic as he came deep inside her, filling her completely.

When it was finally over, Athidi was a trembling, sweat-soaked wreck—moaning softly, barely coherent.


“Haaaa… haaaaa… no more… please… haaaaa… done… haaaaaaaa…”

They uncuffed her slowly, removed the blindfold with gentle fingers. Her eyes were glassy, pupils blown,

cheeks streaked with tears. She smiled weakly, dazed, completely unaware.

Gupta kissed her forehead. “You were fucking incredible.”

Rahul stroked her hair. “Rest now.”

Neither mentioned the four perfect 4K recordings—every angle, every glistening drop, every desperate

“nooooo” and shattered “haaaaaaaa”—now safely archived, timestamped, crystal clear under the unforgiving

brightness of the lights.



















Poor Athidhi don't know they well captured her in all angles in 4k resolution under heavy lights. Her every single moan

and expression well being recored.......


End Day 1......in video title appeared to Kamal....


Kamal's no reaction when he saw that day 1 video. How his love beautiful wife being taken by Gupta and Rahul.

But he felt so anger at the same time he highly got aroused. His cock still in rock hard situation from the video

started. He came thrice.

Continueeeee.......

[Suresh@123]

The morning sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of the villa, casting a golden haze over the master

bedroom. Athidi stirred slowly, her body aching in the most delicious ways from the night before. Every

muscle felt tender, her skin marked with faint bruises from Gupta's grip and Rahul's bites. She blinked against

the light, realizing she was alone in the massive bed, the sheets tangled around her naked form. The

blindfold and cuffs were gone, neatly stowed away somewhere, but the memories replayed in her mind like a

forbidden film—her cries, her pleas, the unrelenting pleasure that had shattered her.

She sat up, wincing slightly as she felt the lingering soreness between her thighs. A quick glance at the clock

showed it was just past 9 AM. The island's seclusion meant no rush, no outside world to intrude. But where

were Gupta and Rahul? She heard faint voices from the terrace outside, accompanied by the clink of coffee

cups. Wrapping a silk robe around herself—barely covering her curves—she padded barefoot to the French

doors and peeked out.

There they were, lounging in swim trunks by the infinity pool that overlooked the turquoise ocean. Gupta,

with his broad shoulders and salt-and-pepper hair, sipped espresso while scrolling through his phone. Rahul,

lean and tanned, laughed at something on his tablet. They looked so casual, so normal, as if last night hadn't

happened. But Athidi knew better. Her cheeks flushed at the sight of them, a mix of desire and

embarrassment flooding her.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Rahul called out without looking up, his voice teasing. "Join us. We made breakfast."

She hesitated in the doorway, tying the robe tighter. "I... I should shower first."

Gupta set his phone down, his dark eyes locking onto hers with that commanding intensity. "No. Come as

you are. We like you... natural."

Her pulse quickened. Natural? She could still feel the stickiness between her legs from Gupta's release last

night, her hair a mess, her makeup smudged. But something in his tone made her obey. She stepped out

onto the warm tiles, the robe slipping slightly to reveal the curve of her breast.

They pulled out a chair for her between them at the small table laden with fresh fruit, croissants, and yogurt.

As she sat, Rahul poured her coffee, his fingers brushing hers deliberately. "How did you sleep, Athidi? After

all that... excitement?"

She blushed, staring into her cup. "Fine. I mean... exhausted."

Gupta chuckled softly, leaning back. "Exhausted? That's one way to put it. Tell us, what was your favorite

part?"

The question caught her off guard. She shifted in her seat, the robe's fabric rubbing against her sensitive

nipples. "I... I don't know. It was all... intense."

Rahul's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Come on, be specific. Was it when Gupta first touched you with the

vibrator? Or when you squirted all over my hand?"

Athidi's face burned. She glanced around, even though the island was private—no one but the waves to hear.
. "Rahul... please. That's embarrassing."

"That's the point," Gupta said calmly, slicing a mango and offering her a piece on his fork. "Eat. And answer

him. We want to hear you say it."

She took the bite, the sweet juice dripping down her chin. Wiping it away shyly, she murmured, "The... the

squirting. I've never done that before. It felt... out of control."

Rahul grinned. "Out of control? You mean humiliating? Like you couldn't hold back, even though you begged

us to stop?"

She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes... humiliating. But... good humiliating."

Gupta's hand rested on her thigh under the table, his thumb stroking lightly. "Good girl. See? Honesty suits

you. Now, tell us—how many times did you cum last night? Count them for us."

Athidi squirmed, the casual breakfast turning into something far more intimate. "Five... I think. It all blurred

together."

"Five," Rahul echoed, leaning closer. "And each one louder than the last. Remember the fourth? When we had

you on your stomach, ass up, and you sobbed into the pillow?"

Her breath hitched. "Yes... I remember. It felt like I was breaking."

"But you loved it," Gupta pressed, his hand sliding higher, parting the robe slightly. "Didn't you? Say it."

"I... I loved it," she admitted, her voice trembling with shame. The admission made her core throb, even as

she crossed her legs to hide her growing arousal.

They continued like this through breakfast—teasing questions that forced her to relive every moment, her

answers coming out shy and halting, each one deepening her humiliation. "Did it turn you on when we

blindfolded you?" Rahul asked. "Knowing you couldn't see what was coming next?"

"Yes... it made everything feel more... vulnerable."

"And the anal plug?" Gupta added, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've never had anything there before. How

did it feel, stretching you open?"

Athidi covered her face with her hands. "Oh god... tight. Full. Wrong, but... exciting. I felt so exposed."

"Exposed," Rahul repeated, his tone dripping with delight. "Like a slut on display?"

She whimpered softly. "Yes... like a slut."

By the time the plates were cleared, Athidi was a mess—robe half-open, nipples hard peaks against the silk,

thighs slick with her own excitement. They hadn't touched her sexually yet, just words, but it was enough to

have her on edge.

"Let's go for a swim," Gupta suggested, standing and offering his hand. "To cool you off."

The pool was heated, the water like silk against her skin as she shed the robe and slipped in naked. They

joined her, their bodies brushing against hers in the shallow end. But instead of relief, the teasing continued.

Rahul floated beside her, his hand casually grazing her hip. "Tell us, Athidi—before last night, what's the

dirtiest thing you've ever done?"

She treaded water, her breasts bobbing just above the surface. "I... once, in college, I hooked up with two

guys at a party. But it was quick, nothing like... this."

"Two guys?" Gupta swam up behind her, his chest pressing against her back. "Did they make you cum like we

did? Or were they amateurs?"

"No... not like you," she confessed shyly, feeling his hardness against her ass. "They didn't tease. Didn't make

me beg."

Rahul's fingers traced her collarbone. "Beg? Like how you begged us last night? 'Please, no more... haaaaa...'"

She laughed nervously, but it turned into a moan as Gupta's hand dipped below the water, cupping her

mound lightly. "Yes... like that. It was humiliating to beg."

"But you did it anyway," Rahul whispered, his lips brushing her ear. "Because deep down, you crave it. Don't

you?"

"Yes," she breathed, her hips bucking involuntarily against Gupta's palm. "I crave it."

They played this game all morning—questions that peeled away her inhibitions, her answers laced with shy

admissions that only fueled their arousal and hers. In the pool, on the loungers drying off, even during a light

lunch of grilled fish and salads on the terrace. No bondage, just their words binding her in a web of erotic

humiliation.

After lunch, they moved to the shaded cabana by the beach, the sound of waves a constant backdrop. Athidi

lay on a cushioned daybed between them, still naked, her skin glistening with sunscreen they'd applied—

slowly, teasingly, their hands lingering everywhere but where she needed.

Gupta propped himself on an elbow, looking down at her. "Athidi, have you ever fantasized about being

watched? Not just by us, but... others?"


Her eyes widened, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over her. "Watched? Like... voyeurs?"

Rahul traced a finger around her navel. "Mmm. Strangers seeing you cum, hearing your cries. Does that turn

you on?"

She bit her lip, shaking her head at first, but their expectant stares made her crumble. "Maybe... a little. It's

scary, but... exciting. Humiliating to think about."

"Scary how?" Gupta pressed, his hand sliding to her inner thigh.

"Like... losing control in front of people. Them judging me for being so... needy."

"Needy," Rahul echoed, his voice low. "Like how needy you are right now? We can see it, you know—your

pussy glistening, begging for attention without us even touching it."

Athidi squeezed her thighs together, mortified. "Stop... that's embarrassing."

"But true," Gupta said, gently parting her legs. "Tell us—what would you do if someone was watching right

now? Would you still spread for us?"

"I... I don't know," she whispered, but her body betrayed her, hips arching slightly.

"Yes, you do," Rahul insisted. "Say it. 'I'd spread my legs and let them see me cum.'"

Her voice was tiny, humiliated. "I'd... spread my legs and let them see me cum."

The afternoon stretched on like this—lazy, sun-drenched hours filled with probing questions that made her

squirm and confess. "What's the most times you've masturbated in a day?" (Four, she admitted shyly.) "Have

you ever tasted yourself?" (Yes, once, out of curiosity—it was salty, sweet.) "Do you like being called names

during sex?" (Yes... it makes me feel dirty, in a good way.)
Each answer drew soft praises from them—"Good girl," "So honest"—but also more teasing, their hands

brushing her skin, keeping her on the brink without relief. By late afternoon, Athidi was a puddle of need, her

body trembling with unfulfilled desire.

As the sun dipped lower, they led her back inside to the living room—a spacious area with plush couches

facing floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sea. They sat her between them, still naked, while they

remained clothed in shorts.

"Time for a game," Rahul announced, pulling out a small deck of cards from a drawer. "Truth or dare, but only

truths. And you have to answer everything."

Athidi's heart raced. "Only me?"

Gupta nodded. "For now. Start with this: Describe in detail the first time you had an orgasm."

She blushed furiously, but the humiliation only heightened her arousal. "I was... 16. In my room, alone. I used

my fingers, thinking about a boy from college. It was quick, intense... I bit my pillow to stay quiet."

"Details," Rahul urged. "How did you touch yourself? Circles? Up and down?"

"Circles... on my clit. Slow at first, then faster. I was so wet... it surprised me."

Gupta's hand rested on her knee. "And did you think about being taken by two men back then?"

"No... but now... yes."


The questions grew bolder. "Have you ever faked an orgasm?" (A few times, with exes.) "What's your dirtiest

fantasy?" (Being used in public, but discreetly—hands under a table at dinner.)

With each confession, they rewarded her with light touches—a finger tracing her slit, a thumb brushing her

nipple—but never enough to let her cum. Athidi was panting, her answers coming out in breathless stutters,

her humiliation complete as she begged them with her eyes.

"Please... I can't take more questions. I need..."

Rahul tilted her chin up. "Need what? Say it, shy girl."

"I need you... both. Fuck me. Please."

Gupta smiled. "Soon. One more truth: Do you want us to fill you up again, like last night?"

"Yes... god, yes. Humiliate me with your cocks."

That broke their restraint. They stripped quickly, their erections springing free—Gupta thick and veined, Rahul

longer and curved. They positioned her on the couch, on all fours, facing the windows where the setting sun

painted the sky orange.

Rahul knelt in front, guiding her mouth to his cock. "Suck me while Gupta takes you from behind. Show us

how needy you are."

Athidi moaned around him, her tongue swirling as Gupta entered her slowly, stretching her sore walls.

"Haaaa... so full... yes..."

They fucked her in tandem—Rahul thrusting into her mouth, Gupta pounding her pussy with deep, rhythmic

strokes. Her muffled cries filled the room: "Mmmph... haaaaa... more..."

Gupta's hands gripped her hips. "You're so wet from all that talking. Admitting your slutty secrets turned you

on, didn't it?"

She nodded, humiliated tears pricking her eyes as she sucked harder.

Rahul pulled out briefly. "Tell us—beg for our cum."

"Please... cum inside me... on me... haaaaa... I'm your slut..."

They switched positions midway—Rahul behind her now, his curve hitting her g-spot perfectly, while Gupta

fed her his cock, still slick from her juices.

"Haaaa... taste myself... humiliating... oh fuck..."

The pace quickened, their grunts mixing with her whimpers. Rahul came first, spilling deep inside her with a

groan. "Take it... all of it."

Gupta followed, pulling out to paint her back and ass with hot ropes. "Marked... ours."

Athidi collapsed, spent, but they weren't done. As she caught her breath, Gupta whispered, "We have a

surprise for you."

Rahul fetched a tablet from the side table, turning it on. The screen lit up with footage—from last night. The

four cameras had captured everything: her bound form, the toys, her orgasms in crystal-clear 4K.

Athidi's eyes widened in shock and arousal. "You... recorded it?"

Gupta nodded. "For us to watch together. And maybe... share, if you ever say 'anything' again."

The humiliation hit her like a wave, but so did the heat. As the video played—her cries echoing softly—she felt

herself getting wet again. "Oh god... that's me..."

Rahul kissed her neck. "Surprise. Now, let's watch you cum on screen while we make you cum in real life."
They positioned her between them, fingers and mouths exploring as the footage rolled. Athidi's shy protests

melted into moans, the day ending in another round of exquisite, humiliating pleasure.

The Evening Deepens

As the video played, Athidi couldn't tear her eyes away. There she was, blindfolded and spread, her body

arching under the assault of vibrators. The sound of her own "haaaaa..." filled the room, syncing with her

current breaths. Gupta's fingers dipped between her legs, finding her slick anew.

"See that?" he murmured. "That's you squirting. So beautiful, so humiliated."

She whimpered, legs parting wider. "I look... desperate."

"You were," Rahul said, his mouth on her breast. "And you are now. Touch yourself while you watch."

Shyly, her hand moved down, fingers circling her clit as the on-screen version screamed through her third

orgasm. The real Athidi matched it, cumming with a soft cry. "Haaaa... again..."

They spent the evening like this—replaying clips, teasing her with questions about each moment. "Did it feel

as good as it looks?" "Would you do it again?" Her answers were humiliated whispers, but honest.

By nightfall, they led her to the bedroom, no bondage, just their bodies entwining. They took turns—Gupta

slow and deep, Rahul fast and teasing—until she was a boneless heap.


As they drifted to sleep, Athidi whispered, "The surprise... it's hot. But scary."

Gupta kissed her. "That's the fun."



Continue day 2.........

[Suresh@123]

Day 2 continues.......


As the stars began to twinkle over the secluded island villa, Athidi lay sandwiched between Gupta and Rahul

on the massive bed, her body still humming from the evening's teasing and the video playback. The air was

thick with the scent of sex and saltwater, the ceiling fan whirring softly above them. She thought the night

might wind down into gentle cuddles, but Gupta's hand trailed down her side, his fingers possessive as they

gripped her hip.


"Not done yet, Athidi," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "We promised you 'anything,'

remember? Tonight, we're taking it further. Three hours of us owning every inch of you. Hardcore. No breaks

until you're begging for mercy—and even then, maybe not."

Rahul chuckled from her other side, his lean body pressing closer, his erection already stirring against her

thigh. "You heard him. Get ready to moan louder than in that video. We're going to break you in the best way."

Athidi's heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement flooding her. Her body was already sore from the day, but

the humiliation of the video had reignited her desire. "I... I don't know if I can handle three hours," she

whispered shyly, her voice trembling.

"Oh, you will," Gupta said, rolling her onto her back and pinning her wrists above her head with one strong

hand. "And you'll love every humiliating second. But first, we're recording all of this in 4K. Every moan, every

thrust, every drop of sweat. It'll be my sweet memory to relive forever."

Athidi's eyes widened in protest, her cheeks flushing deeper with embarrassment. "No, please... not

recording. That's too much. I deny it—it's humiliating enough without a camera capturing everything."

Gupta's grip tightened slightly, his smile firm and insistent. "Oh, Athidi, it's happening. Think of it as our

private film. My sweet memory of how perfectly you submit. Rahul, set up the cameras."

Rahul grinned, hopping off the bed to adjust the discreet 4K cameras already mounted around the room—on

tripods by the nightstand, overhead from the ceiling fan, and one handheld for close-ups. He hit record on all

of them, the red lights blinking to life like watchful eyes. "All set. Lights, camera, action. Now, let's make this

footage unforgettable."

The clock on the nightstand read 9 PM. The marathon began, every moment immortalized in crystal-clear

4K.

Gupta started slow but intense, his mouth claiming hers in a deep, dominating kiss while Rahul's hands

roamed her body, pinching her nipples until they hardened into peaks. Athidi gasped into Gupta's mouth, her

back arching. "Ohhhhh...... please..." The cameras captured it all—the way her body trembled, the soft glow of

sweat on her skin under the villa's dim lights.

But they didn't ease up. Gupta released her wrists only to flip her onto her stomach, spreading her legs wide.

He positioned himself behind her, his thick cock teasing her entrance, slick from earlier. "Beg for it, Athidi.

Tell us how much you need this—and say it for the camera."

"I... I need it," she whimpered, her face buried in the pillow, aware of the lens zooming in on her flushed

expression. "Fuck me... hard." But she added softly, "Please, no recording... it's too embarrassing."

Gupta chuckled, glancing at the nearest camera. "That's what makes it sweet, my memory keeper." He thrust

in with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. Athidi's cry echoed through the room: "Haaaa aaa..

Haaaa... oh god, too deep!" The 4K captured the ripple of her skin, the arch of her back, every detail in high
. definition.

Rahul knelt in front of her, lifting her head by the hair gently but firmly, angling her face toward a camera.

"Open your mouth, shy girl. Suck while he fucks you—and smile for your audience of one."

She obeyed, her lips wrapping around Rahul's length as Gupta began pounding into her from behind. The

rhythm was relentless—Gupta's hips slamming against her ass, each thrust sending jolts through her body.

Athidi moaned around Rahul's cock, the vibrations making him groan. "Mmmph... ohhhhh...... Haaaa...

slower... please..." The handheld camera, now in Rahul's free hand, got a close-up of her tear-streaked face,

her lips stretched around him.

But they ignored her pleas. Gupta's hands gripped her hips, pulling her back onto him harder. "No slowing

down. Take it like the slut you admitted to being. This footage will show how much you crave it."

Rahul thrust deeper into her mouth, his curve hitting the back of her throat. "Gag on it, Athidi. Show the

camera how humiliated you feel."

She did, tears streaming down her face from the intensity, but her pussy clenched around Gupta, betraying

her arousal. The first orgasm hit her like a wave after just ten minutes, her body shaking. "Haaaa... aaa... I'm

cumming... ohhhhh...... nooooo please.... it's too much!" The cameras caught the convulsion, her juices

glistening in 4K clarity.

They didn't stop. Gupta pulled out only to flip her over, entering her again missionary style, his weight pinning

her down. Rahul straddled her chest, feeding her his cock while pinching her nipples. The bed creaked under

the force, Athidi's moans growing louder, more desperate. "Slow... slow.... Slow.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa... I

can't... ohhhhh......" One camera overhead recorded the full scene, another focused on her bouncing breasts.

Thirty minutes in, sweat glistened on all their bodies, the lenses fogging slightly from the heat but still

capturing every bead. They switched—Rahul behind her now, his longer cock hitting her g-spot with every

thrust. Gupta in her mouth, his thickness making her jaw ache. Athidi's hands clutched the sheets, her nails

digging in as another climax built. "Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo please....slow...slow.... Slow.... margayiiiii....

haaaaa... fuck... deeper... no, wait... ohhhhh......" Gupta adjusted a tripod for a better angle, insisting, "This is

gold—my sweet memory of you breaking."

Rahul slapped her ass lightly, the sting adding to the humiliation, the sound crisp on the audio. "Beg for

more, not less. You love this, and the camera knows it."

"I... I love it... haaaaa... humiliate me more... ohhhhh...... but please, stop recording," she pleaded weakly.

"No chance," Gupta replied. "It's for us—for my memories."

They obliged her other plea, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Gupta stood, lifting her legs over his

shoulders, pounding downward. Rahul beside him, fingering her clit while she sucked him alternately. The

position exposed her completely, her breasts bouncing with each impact. Athidi's cries filled the villa:

"Haaaa... aaa... oh god, I'm breaking... slow.... margayiiiii.... nooooo... yes... haaaaa..." The 4K zoomed in on her

spread legs, capturing the slick intrusion.

By the one-hour mark, she'd cum three more times, her body a trembling mess. They gave her a brief water

break—ten seconds—before resuming, Rahul checking the cameras to ensure nothing was missed. Now on

the floor, carpet soft under her knees, Athidi on all fours. Rahul under her, thrusting up into her pussy, while

Gupta took her ass slowly at first, then harder. Double penetration stretched her to her limits.

"Ohhhhh...... Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo please....slow...slow.... Slow.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa... too full... I

can't breathe... ohhhhh......" The cameras encircled them, one low-angle shot emphasizing the dual entry.

The sensation was overwhelming—Rahul's curve rubbing her insides, Gupta's thickness claiming her back

entrance. They synced their thrusts, one in as the other out, driving her mad. Tears of pleasure and pain

mixed on her cheeks. "Margayiiiii.... haaaaa... please... mercy... nooooo... don't stop... ohhhhh......" Gupta

murmured to the lens, "Look at her—perfect for my sweet memories."

Rahul grinned up at her. "Admit it—you're our fucktoy now, on film forever."

"Yes... haaaaa... your toy... humiliate me... aaa... slow.... margayiiiii...." But she whispered, "Please, turn off the cameras..."

"Never," Gupta insisted. "This is too precious."

They kept this up for twenty minutes, her orgasms blending into one continuous wave. Then, a position

change: Athidi straddling Gupta on the bed, riding him reverse cowgirl while Rahul stood behind, alternating

between her mouth and ass. Her moans were guttural now, raw from screaming. "Haaaa... ohhhhh......

nooooo please....slow... haaaaa... I'm dying... margayiiiii.... aaa..." The overhead camera caught her bouncing

form in stunning detail.

Ninety minutes in, exhaustion set in, but they fueled her with words. "Remember the video? This new one in

4K will be even better—live, endless, my ultimate sweet memory." Gupta's hands on her breasts, twisting

nipples. Rahul's fingers in her hair, guiding her toward a lens.

She came again, squirting this time, soaking the sheets. "Ohhhhh...... Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo... slow....

margayiiiii.... haaaaa... wet... everywhere... humiliating... ohhhhh......" The close-up captured the spray in

high-res.

They moved to the shower for a "break"—but it was no break, and Rahul brought a waterproof 4K camera

along. Under the hot water, soap slicking their bodies, Rahul pressed her against the glass, fucking her from

behind while Gupta knelt, his tongue on her clit. Athidi's palms slapped the tiles, her cries echoing off the

walls. "Haaaa... aaa... water... too much... slow...slow.... margayiiiii.... nooooo please.... ohhhhh...... haaaaa..."

The lens fogged but cleared, recording the steamy scene.


"No recording in here... please," Athidi begged, water streaming down her face.

Gupta looked up, insistent. "Especially in here—it's artistic, my sweet memory."

Back to the bed, two hours in. Athidi on her side, Gupta spooning her from behind, deep in her pussy, Rahul

in front, in her mouth. They rocked her between them, her body limp but responsive. "Margayiiiii.... haaaaa...

can't... more... ohhhhh...... slow.... nooooo... aaa..." Cameras adjusted for side views.

Another switch: Suspended between them, legs wrapped around Rahul's waist as he thrust standing, Gupta

behind supporting and entering her ass. Gravity added intensity, each drop onto them sending shocks. "

Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo please....slow...slow.... Slow.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa... falling... ohhhhh......" A

tripod captured the athletic feat.

Her climaxes numbered in the double digits now, each one wringing louder moans. "Ohhhhh...... please...

mercy... haaaaa... aaa... nooooo... slow.... margayiiiii...." The footage rolled on relentlessly.


As the third hour approached, they laid her on her back, both kneeling over her. Gupta in her pussy, Rahul in

her ass, alternating rapid thrusts. Athidi thrashed, her voice hoarse. "Haaaa... ohhhhh...... nooooo

please....slow... haaaaa... both... too much... margayiiiii.... aaa... cumming... again... ohhhhh......" Cameras

from multiple angles ensured nothing was missed.

They built to a frenzy, her body convulsing in one final, massive orgasm that left her screaming: "Margayiiiii....

haaaaa... nooooo... slow.... ohhhhh...... Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. please.... I can't... haaaaa..." The 4K

immortalized the peak.

But just as they neared their own releases, the bedroom door creaked open. In walked a stunning woman—

tall, athletic, with short-cropped dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a lithe body clad in a sheer negligee. She

was Lena, Rahul's kept woman, a lesbian lover he'd mentioned in passing but never introduced. She'd been

on the island all along, waiting in a guest wing, watching the feeds discreetly.

. "Room for one more?" Lena purred, her voice sultry with a European accent. She stripped slowly, revealing

perky breasts and a toned figure. Athidi's eyes widened in shock and fresh humiliation—another person

seeing her like this, and with cameras rolling.

Rahul grinned, pulling out. "Perfect timing, Lena. Join the bang. Athidi's been our star—now show her what

you can do. And don't worry, it's all being recorded in 4K for Gupta's sweet memories."

Athidi shook her head weakly. "No... not with her... and definitely no more recording. I deny it—turn them off!"

Gupta stroked her cheek, insistent. "It's happening, Athidi. This addition makes the memory even sweeter.

Lena, get in frame."

Lena crawled onto the bed, her hands gentle but firm as she pushed Athidi's legs apart wider. "I've been

watching the live feed, darling. You're exquisite when you break." Her tongue flicked Athidi's clit, expert and

teasing, while Gupta and Rahul watched, stroking themselves. The cameras adjusted automatically, capturing


the new dynamic.

Athidi moaned anew, the softness contrasting the hardness. "Ohhhhh...... haaaaa... a woman... nooooo...

humiliating... aaa... slow.... margayiiiii...." Her protest about the recording faded into gasps.

Lena lapped hungrily, fingers joining in, curling inside. "Taste so sweet after all that." Rahul entered Lena from

behind, fucking her as she ate Athidi out. Gupta claimed Athidi's mouth with his cock.

The group dynamic exploded—Lena's moans vibrating against Athidi, Rahul pounding Lena, Gupta thrusting.

Then switches: Lena straddling Athidi's face, teaching her to lick shyly. "Like that... yes... haaaaa..." A close-up

camera focused on Athidi's tentative tongue.


Athidi's tongue explored tentatively, humiliation peaking. "Mmmph... tastes... different... ohhhhh...... nooooo

please...." She murmured against Lena's skin, "Please... no cameras..."

But Gupta, watching, insisted, "Keep going—it's beautiful on film."

Gupta fucked Athidi while she pleasured Lena, Rahul taking Lena's ass. The bed shook with their combined

cries. Athidi came again under Lena's guidance, squirting into her mouth. "Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo...

slow.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa... lesbian... ohhhhh......" The 4K caught the fluid arc perfectly.

The finale: All four entangled—Athidi on her back, Gupta in her pussy, Rahul in her ass, Lena's fingers and

mouth everywhere, kissing, licking, pinching. Athidi's ultimate moan shattered the night: "Margayiiiii....

haaaaa... everyone... nooooo please....slow... ohhhhh...... Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. too much... cumming...

forever..." Cameras from every angle documented the chaos.

They all climaxed in a chain—Rahul filling her ass, Gupta her pussy, Lena grinding to orgasm on Athidi's thigh,

then collapsing in a heap. The recordings captured the afterglow, breaths heaving.

As the clock struck midnight, the three-hour ordeal ended, but with Lena's addition, the night promised

more. Athidi, utterly spent, whispered, "Humiliated... but... thank you." Gupta hit stop on the cameras,

smiling. "My sweet memories are safe now."


The next phase began with Lena taking charge, her lesbian expertise adding a new layer of softness amid the

hardness. But first, Gupta restarted the 4K cameras, positioning an extra one for better coverage. Athidi protested

again: "No more recording... I deny it. Please, it's enough."

Gupta kissed her forehead insistently. "One more session for the collection—my sweet memory of this new chapter."

Lena nodded approvingly as the red lights blinked on.

Lena positioned Athidi on her knees, facing her, while Gupta and Rahul watched from the sides. "Kiss me, shy one,"

Lena commanded, her lips soft and insistent. The cameras rolled, capturing the tentative lean-in.

Athidi hesitated, but the humiliation of performing for the men—and the lenses—pushed her forward. Their lips met,

tongues dancing, Athidi's moans soft at first: "Mmm... ohhhhh...... different... haaaaa..." A close-up framed their faces,

the passion vivid.

Lena's hands cupped Athidi's breasts, thumbs circling nipples. "Good girl. Now, lower." She guided Athidi's head down

to her chest, Athidi sucking tentatively. "Haaaa... aaa... like this? Nooooo... embarrassing..." The audio picked up every

suckle.

"Yes," Lena moaned, arching. Rahul couldn't resist, sliding behind Lena to enter her slowly, his thrusts making her body

rock against Athidi's mouth. The chain formed, a wide-angle lens encompassing the line.

Gupta joined, pulling Athidi's hips up to enter her from behind. The full chain: Gupta fucking Athidi, Athidi pleasuring

Lena's breasts, Rahul fucking Lena. Moans synced: Athidi's "Ohhhhh...... slow.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa..." mixing with

Lena's gasps. The 4K detailed the sweat-slicked connections.

They held this for fifteen minutes, building slowly. Then, Lena flipped Athidi onto her back, diving between her legs.

Her tongue was magic—circling, flicking, sucking. Athidi thrashed: "Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo

please....slow...slow.... Slow.... margayiiiii.... ohhhhh...... woman... eating me... haaaaa..." Cameras zoomed on Lena's

expert work.

Rahul entered Lena again, doggy style over Athidi, while Gupta fed Athidi his cock. The overload sent Athidi over the

edge quickly: "Margayiiiii.... cumming... on her tongue... nooooo... aaa..." The footage shook slightly with her

convulsions.

Post-orgasm, they rearranged. Lena strapped on a dildo from a hidden drawer—sleek, vibrating. "My turn to fuck you,

Athidi." She entered her missionary, gentle at first, then harder, the vibration humming. A camera mounted nearby

captured the penetration in sharp focus.

Athidi's eyes rolled back: "Ohhhhh...... haaaaa... toy... inside... slow.... nooooo please.... margayiiiii.... haaaaa..." She

begged softly, "Turn off the cameras... please."

Gupta, stroking nearby, insisted, "No—this is the highlight for my memories."

Gupta and Rahul took turns in Lena's mouth and ass, the group a writhing mass. Athidi came twice more from the

dildo, her moans echoing: "Haaaa... aaa... vibrating... too much... slow.... ohhhhh......" The vibrations were almost

audible on the recording.

Hour extending, they moved to the terrace under the stars, Rahul carrying a portable 4K camera. Athidi bent over the

railing, ocean breeze on her skin. Rahul in her pussy, Gupta in her ass, Lena kneeling to lick where they joined. The

exposure—imagined eyes from the sea, plus the camera—heightened humiliation. "Nooooo... outside... someone

might see... haaaaa... slow.... margayiiiii.... ohhhhh......" The night vision mode kicked in, stars twinkling in the

background.

Lena's tongue teased her clit: "Let them see. You're beautiful." The lens caught the ocean waves crashing in sync with

thrusts.

Back inside, more positions: Athidi riding Lena's strap-on, bouncing, while sucking Rahul, Gupta behind entering her

ass. Double penetration with a twist. "Haaaa aaa.. Haaaa... .. Nooooo please....slow... full... margayiiiii.... haaaaa...

ohhhhh......" Multiple cameras triangulated the action.

They edged her for twenty minutes, denying release until she begged: "Please... cum... nooooo... slow...." The buildup

was torturously detailed on film.

Finally, permission granted, she exploded: "Margayiiiii.... haaaaa... aaa..." The squirt was captured in slow-motion

potential.

The night wore on with variations—69 between Athidi and Lena while the men alternated fucking them, group oral

chains, even light spanking from Lena to add sting. Athidi's moans never ceased, growing hoarser: "Ohhhhh...... slow...

nooooo please.... haaaaa... margayiiiii...." Throughout, Athidi's denials about the recording peppered the scenes, but

Gupta's insistence prevailed each time: "It's for my sweet memories—keep going."

By the end, as dawn hinted, they all collapsed, bodies entangled, Athidi in the center, marked, sore, humiliated, and

satisfied. Lena kissed her softly: "Welcome to the family." Gupta stopped the cameras one last time, a collection of

hours of 4K footage now his treasured keepsake.

And they Wil think to send to Kamal and humiliate him later...

[Suresh@123]

Gupta whispers in Athidi ears " just we finished Day 2.....still wait one more day.. 3".. But Athidhi replied in

already she is breathing heavily so erotically she fainted so breathing her boobs going up and down....

"please this enough I can't. You both already given me 3 days please just in 2 days " Gupta told OK as per

you wish......". We will leave....

[Suresh@123]

Sorry for not post images and sex gif as some of the friends in forum requested.. Not to post....

[Suresh@123]

so no third day action?

Let's wait may or may not be.... depends upon....?

[Suresh@123]

Please post images as it helps in imagination and more erotic

OK bro  may be  I will edit and post sex gif and images of bang..... May n

[Suresh@123]

DAY 3: Tomorrow..

[Suresh@123]

Thank you to all

[Suresh@123]

totally awesome, can't hardly wait for the next story update.
Good writing 

Thankyou

[Suresh@123]

Superb erotic writing script man

What about day 3 is it cancelled or any other place for it

Thank you bro

[Suresh@123]

Just superb. Now adithi and shailaja both should be stoned with cocaine and then made strip dance

Thankyou

[Suresh@123]

Day 3 – Part 1: The Mumbai Echo


In a high-rise apartment in Bandra, Mumbai, Kamal sat hunched over his laptop at 7:45 AM, the city already

buzzing far below. The Excel sheets for the quarterly audit blurred in front of his tired eyes. Coffee had gone

cold in the mug beside him. He rubbed his temples, trying to focus on the numbers, when his phone vibrated

once—then beeped sharply with the familiar notification tone he had come to dread.

He froze.

The same private chat group. The same three dots that always appeared before something devastating

arrived.

He tapped it open.

The video thumbnail loaded slowly on his 4G connection: a still frame of Athidhi lying on crisp white sheets,

arms stretched high above her head, wrists loosely tied to the ornate wooden headboard of the master

bedroom on the island. Her eyes were half-closed in exhausted sleep, dark hair fanned across the pillow, bare

except for a tiny black lace bra and matching thong. The timestamp in the corner read 6:12 AM IST—barely

an hour ago.

Then the message from Gupta appeared below the video:

Good morning, cuck. Fresh clip just dropped. Today we have a new crew member joining. Meet Moin—our

muscular strongman, 6'3", built like a fucking tank. Your shy little wife is about to get properly introduced.

Watch live if you want. Or keep pretending to work. Up to you.

Kamal's stomach dropped. His hand trembled as he pressed play.

The footage began.

The camera—hidden high in the corner of the bedroom—showed Athidhi stirring awake as the door opened.

Gupta entered first, shirtless, followed by Rahul in loose shorts, and then a third man: Moin. Broad shoulders,

thick arms veined and bulging, dark skin glistening under the morning light filtering through the curtains, a

short beard framing a stern face. He wore only black boxer briefs that did little to hide the heavy bulge.

Athidhi's eyes widened. She pulled the sheet up instinctively.

"No… please… not another person…" Her voice was small, hoarse from the previous night's screaming.

Gupta's tone was calm steel. "Good morning, Athidi. New day, new rules. Go freshen up. Shower, brush your

teeth, then come straight back here. Lie down on the master bed in only your inners. Arms raised above your

head—hold the headboard posts. Don't make us repeat it."

She looked between them, cheeks flaming. "Gupta… I can't… I'm so sore already…"

Moin's deep voice rumbled for the first time. "You'll handle it. Or we make it harder."

Rahul smiled. "Clock's ticking, baby. Move."

Athidhi slid off the bed on shaky legs and disappeared into the attached bathroom. The camera picked up

the sound of running water, soft sobs mixed with it.

Ten minutes later she returned—hair damp, skin flushed from the hot shower, wearing only the black lace set.

She climbed onto the massive bed without a word, lay on her back, and slowly raised both arms. Her fingers

curled around the two thick wooden posts of the headboard. The position lifted and spread her breasts,

made her ribs visible with each nervous breath.

Gupta nodded approval. "Good girl."

The three men surrounded the bed. No rush. They simply looked at her stretched-out body for a long

moment—possessive, hungry.

Then they descended.

Gupta took her left nipple through the lace, sucking hard, teeth grazing. Rahul claimed the right, tongue

swirling, then biting just enough to make her gasp. Moin knelt between her spread thighs, pushed the thong

aside with two thick fingers, and fastened his mouth directly onto her swollen labia. His tongue was broad,

insistent—lapping from bottom to top in long, slow strokes before focusing on her clit with firm suction.

Athidhi's back arched immediately. "Ohhhhhh… haaaaa… no… too many mouths… aaa…"

They didn't speak. They just devoured.

For ten full minutes they sucked and chewed in unison—nipples pulled taut, labia tugged between lips, anus

circled by Moin's tongue when he spread her wider. Wet sounds filled the room: slurping, soft pops when

mouths released flesh only to latch again. Athidhi's hips jerked helplessly, wrists straining against her self-

imposed bondage.

"Haaaa… aaa… please… slow… margayiiii… ohhhhh… it's too much at once…"

Her pussy glistened, then dripped—clear fluid sliding down toward her ass. Moin caught it with his tongue,

groaning against her.

Gupta lifted his head just long enough to murmur, "Camera's rolling, Athidi. Say hello to Kamal. Tell him how

wet you are already."

She whimpered, eyes glassy. "Kamal… haaaaa… they're… licking everywhere… I'm dripping… ohhhhh… I'm

sorry…"

Rahul chuckled against her nipple. "Ask her about your dick, Moin. She loves comparing."



roll die freeonlinedice

Moin raised his head, lips shiny. His voice was gravel. "Tell us, Athidi. Whose cock is bigger—your husband's or mine?"

Athidhi bit her lip, tears welling. "Yours… haaaaa… much bigger… thicker… Kamal's is… smaller…"

Gupta grinned. "And who fucks you better?"

"You… all of you… haaaaa… Kamal never… made me scream like this… aaa… please don't make me say…"

Moin slid two thick fingers inside her, curling toward her g-spot while his thumb pressed her clit. "Keep

talking. Or I stop."

She sobbed. "You fuck me deeper… harder… humiliate me more… Kamal… he… he never… ohhhhh…

margayiiii…"

The confession seemed to ignite them.

Rahul reached to the nightstand and picked up a sleek, curved G-spot vibrator—bright pink, ridged, with a

pronounced hooked head. He handed it to Moin.

"Make her cry with this first."

Moin pressed the buzzing tip against her entrance, teasing, then pushed it in slowly. The curve nestled

directly against her front wall. He turned it to medium.

Athidhi's scream was instant and raw. "HAAAAA… aaa… nooooo… too strong… g-spot… haaaaa… it's hitting

right there… margayiiii… please… slow… slow… slow…"

Her hips bucked wildly. Pussy lips fluttered around the vibrating toy. Fluid gushed—first a trickle, then a small

squirt that soaked Moin's wrist.

Gupta pinched both nipples hard. "Louder. Let Kamal hear how easily you break."

Rahul stroked himself through his shorts, watching. "Beg Moin to fuck you instead of the toy."

Athidhi's voice cracked. "Moin… please… fuck me… haaaaa… the vibrator… making me crazy… I need real cock…

big cock… yours… ohhhhh… margayiiii…"

Moin pulled the toy out with a wet pop, tossed it aside, and yanked his boxers down. His cock sprang free—

heavy, veined, easily nine inches, girthy enough that Athidhi's eyes widened in fresh panic.

He positioned himself, rubbed the fat head along her soaked slit. "Say it again. For the camera. For your

husband."

Athidhi's wrists trembled on the headboard. Tears streamed sideways into her hair. "Moin… your cock is so

much bigger than Kamal's… haaaaa… please fuck me with it… stretch me… humiliate me… show Kamal how a

real man takes his wife… aaa…"

Moin thrust in one brutal stroke—halfway, then all the way when she screamed.

"HAAAAAAAA… aaa… too deep… splitting me… ohhhhh… margayiiii… haaaaa…"

He didn't pause. He fucked her hard, hips snapping, balls slapping wetly against her ass. The bedframe

banged the wall in rhythm. Athidhi's moans turned into continuous wails, echoing off the high ceilings.

"Haaaa… aaa… haaaaa… so thick… filling me… Kamal never… haaaaa… never this full… ohhhhh… margayiiii…

fuck… deeper… no… slow… no… don't stop… haaaaa…"

Gupta and Rahul took turns feeding her their cocks—first one, then the other—silencing her cries

momentarily only for them to erupt louder when her mouth was free.

Moin growled questions between thrusts. "Who owns this pussy now?"

"You… haaaaa… you do… all of you… aaa…"

"Whose cum are you going to take first?"

"Yours… haaaaa… fill me… please… show Kamal… ohhhhh…"

The pace built. Athidhi's body shook with approaching climax—thighs quivering, toes curling, back arching so

high only her shoulders and heels touched the mattress.

"I'm… cumming… haaaaa… nooooo… margayiiii… cumming on your huge cock… Kamal… he's watching… I'm

sorry… haaaaa… aaa… ohhhhhhh…"

She shattered—squirting hard around Moin's pistoning shaft, soaking his abs, the sheets, even splashing onto

Gupta's thigh. Her scream cracked, hoarse and endless.

Moin didn't stop. He fucked her through it, prolonging the spasms until she was babbling incoherently.

"Haaaa… too much… mercy… no more… haaaaa… margayiiii…"

But he only slowed enough to let her breathe—then started again, harder.


The camera kept rolling.

In Mumbai, Kamal stared at the screen, face pale, breathing shallow. The live feed continued, merciless.

And the morning on the island had only just begun.










To be continued.......

[Suresh@123]

The camera never wavered.

Moin stayed buried to the hilt inside Athidhi even as her orgasmic spasms finally began to ebb. Her inner

walls still fluttered weakly around his thickness, milking him in involuntary aftershocks. Sweat beaded on her

collarbones, trickled between her breasts still heaving under the stretched black lace. Her wrists—reddened

now from gripping the headboard posts—trembled but remained obediently high.

Moin rolled his hips once, slowly, letting her feel every ridged vein dragging along her over-sensitized

channel.

"Haaaa… still so sensitive… Moin… please… just a second…" Athidhi's voice cracked into a fragile whisper.

He ignored the plea.

Instead he hooked her knees over his thick forearms, folding her almost in half. The new angle drove him

impossibly deeper; the fat head of his cock pressed directly against her cervix with each lazy roll. Her eyes

rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent scream before sound finally tore free.

"Aaaaahhhhh… too deep… hitting my womb… haaaaa… margayiiii… it's pressing right there… oh god…"

Gupta leaned in from the left side, fingers twisting cruelly into the damp lace covering her left nipple. He

pulled the bra cup down roughly, exposing the swollen, dark areola completely.

"Look how hard these little buds still are," he murmured to the camera. "Even after cumming like a whore, her

body's begging for more."

Rahul mirrored him on the right, yanking the other cup down so both breasts spilled free—full, flushed,

nipples glistening from earlier saliva. He pinched the right one between thumb and forefinger, rolling it slowly

while watching her face contort.

"Tell Kamal which part of you hurts the most right now, Athidi."

She sobbed once, hips twitching involuntarily around Moin's slow-grinding cock.

"My… my pussy… haaaaa… it's burning… stretched so wide… and my cervix… every time he pushes… it aches so

good… aaa… I hate that it feels good…"

Moin chose that moment to pull almost all the way out—only the broad head remaining inside—then slam

back in with punishing force.

Her entire body jolted. Breasts bounced violently. A fresh gush of her arousal squirted out around his shaft,

trickling down to soak the cleft of her ass.

"HAAAAAAAAA… FUCK… aaa… again… do it again… no… slow… haaaaa… margayiiii…"

He repeated the brutal withdrawal-and-plunge five more times—each one drawing a higher, more broken

scream. By the sixth her voice had gone raw, almost silent, just desperate air exploding from her lungs.

Gupta slid two fingers into her mouth, forcing her to suck while Moin kept that punishing rhythm.

"Clean them," Gupta ordered. "Taste how wet your husband's shame makes you."

She obeyed instantly, tongue swirling around his knuckles even as tears streamed continuously.

Rahul, meanwhile, reached under Moin's thrusting hips and pressed two fingers against her tightly puckered

anus—still slick from earlier tongue attention. He didn't penetrate yet—just circled, pressed, circled again,

matching Moin's tempo.

Athidhi's eyes flew wide.

"No… not there… not at the same time… please… haaaaa… I can't take both…"

"You will," Rahul said simply, and pushed one finger past the first tight ring.

Her back bowed off the mattress. The dual invasion—cock stretching her pussy to its absolute limit, finger

breaching her ass—sent her spiraling toward another edge almost immediately.

"Aaaaahhhh… both holes… filling me… ohhhhh… it's too full… margayiiii… I'm going to… again… haaaaa…"

Moin growled low in his throat—the first real sound of strain from him—and sped up. The wet slap-slap-slap of

flesh on flesh filled the room, punctuated by the creak of the heavy teak bedframe protesting.

Gupta pulled his fingers from her mouth with a wet pop and replaced them with his cock—thick, already

leaking pre-cum. He fed it past her lips until her nose pressed against his trimmed pubic hair.

"Suck while you get ruined, baby. Show Kamal how multi-tasking his wife has become."

Her cheeks hollowed. Throat worked visibly around the intrusion even as muffled whimpers vibrated against

Gupta's shaft. Drool leaked from the corners of her stretched mouth, running down her chin to mix with the

sweat on her neck.

Rahul added a second finger to her ass—scissoring slowly, stretching the tight ring while Moin hammered her

g-spot relentlessly.







The triple stimulation broke something fundamental inside her.

Her next orgasm wasn't graceful.

It was violent.

Legs locked straight, toes splayed, every muscle in her body seizing at once. A high, keening wail escaped

around Gupta's cock—muffled but unmistakable. Her pussy clamped down so hard Moin hissed through

clenched teeth. Clear fluid jetted out in rhythmic pulses, soaking his balls, the sheets, Rahul's wrist.

"Hmmmmmmph… mmmph… cummmm… ing… haaaaa… again… sorry Kamal… sorry… haaaaa…"

Gupta pulled out of her mouth just long enough for her to scream properly—raw, animal, endless—before

shoving back in, fucking her throat in short, sharp strokes while she convulsed.

Moin finally showed mercy… of a sort.

He buried himself to the root and held still, letting her ride the aftershocks around his unmoving length while

Rahul kept slowly finger-fucking her ass.

When her trembling eased to shivers, Moin spoke—voice like crushed gravel.

"Time to change positions. I want to see her ride."





online randomizer heads tails








They moved her like she weighed nothing.

Gupta lay on his back in the center of the bed. Athidhi—legs still shaking—was lifted and positioned to

straddle him reverse-cowgirl style. Her back to his chest, facing the hidden camera. Gupta guided his cock to

her dripping entrance and pulled her down slowly until she was fully seated.

"Haaaa… still so full… Gupta… deeper than before… aaa…"

Rahul knelt in front of her. His cock—slick from her earlier saliva—bobbed near her lips.

"Open," he said.

She did.

Moin stood at the foot of the bed, stroking his glistening length while watching her impaled on Gupta.

"Now the real fun begins," Moin rumbled.

Gupta began thrusting upward—short, powerful strokes that made Athidhi's breasts bounce wildly. Each

upward snap forced a fresh whimper from her stuffed mouth.

Rahul reached down and spread her ass cheeks wide—exposing her stretched, pink hole to the camera.

Moin stepped forward.

The head of his massive cock pressed against that forbidden entrance.

Athidhi's eyes rolled in panic. She tried to speak around Rahul's shaft—only garbled pleading emerged.

Moin pushed.

The first inch breached her slowly, inexorably.

Her entire body locked up. Gupta froze mid-thrust to let her adjust. Rahul held her head steady, cock still

buried in her throat.

Another inch.

Then another.

By the time half his length was inside her ass she was shaking violently—tears pouring, body glistening with

fresh sweat.

"Hmmmmph… too big… splitting… both holes… haaaaa… can't… can't breathe…"

Moin didn't stop.

One final, steady push—and he bottomed out.

Athidhi's scream was completely muffled. Her body jerked once, hard, then went rigid as another shattering

orgasm tore through her without warning—triggered purely by the impossible fullness.

Gupta and Moin began moving—opposite rhythms at first, then finding a brutal synchronization. When one

withdrew, the other thrust. Her body rocked helplessly between them like a vessel caught in storm waves.

Rahul fucked her mouth in time with their thrusts—three cocks claiming her completely.

The room filled with obscene symphony:

Wet squelching from her overstuffed pussy and ass.

Gagging, choking sounds from her throat.

The heavy slap of Moin's balls against her perineum.

Gupta's low grunts.

Rahul's hissed praise: "That's it… take it all… show your husband what a perfect three-hole slut you've

become…"

Athidhi could only drool and shudder—lost, broken open, remade in their image with every punishing stroke.

Minutes stretched into eternity.

When Moin finally growled that he was close, Gupta matched his urgency.

They didn't ask where she wanted it.

They simply took.

Moin came first—deep in her ass, hips grinding, flooding her with heat she could feel pulsing inside. The

sensation triggered her yet again—silent this time, just violent trembling and fluttering walls.

Gupta followed seconds later—burying himself and pumping rope after thick rope into her spasming cunt.

Rahul pulled out at the last moment, aimed at her tear-streaked face, and painted her cheeks, lips, closed

eyelids with heavy white streaks.

Athidhi collapsed forward—still impaled, cum leaking from every hole, body twitching with aftershocks.

The three men stepped back.

Let the camera drink in the wreckage:

Wrists bruised.

Nipples swollen dark red.

Pussy gaping slightly, creamy white leaking steadily.

Ass winking around the slow trickle of Moin's load.

Face glazed, mascara ruined.

She managed one broken whisper toward the lens—voice barely audible.

"Kamal… haaaaa… they… they own me now… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

The feed cut.

But on the island, the morning was far from over.

Gupta wiped himself casually on the sheet.

"Round three in 50 minutes. Someone bring the restraints from the playroom."

Athidhi whimpered softly—already anticipating.











roll dice for board turn












Her husband get hard he stroks continuously the video running... But after her tremoundeous organism the video

closed. The video ended there, black screen fading to static. Back in Mumbai, Kamal slumped back, hand sticky in his

lap, breath ragged. Shock warred with arousal, betrayal twisting like a knife. He replayed the final moan, cock

twitching anew. What have they done to you? But deep down, a dark whisper: What will they do next?



To be continued..... Next....

[Suresh@123]

What a day start man superb erotic writing script.

The first' part of day 3 is excellent proceedings

My only suggestion is please complete one story and write another one

Thank you bro

[Suresh@123]

Good update

Thank you.

[Suresh@123]

Just excellent

Thank you..

[Suresh@123]

After the camera cut and the men stepped away, Athidhi remained curled on her side in the center of the

ruined sheets—knees drawn toward her chest, breath still coming in shallow, uneven hitches. Cum slowly

leaked from between her thighs in lazy white rivulets; her skin glistened everywhere, a map of sweat, spit,

and semen. The room smelled thickly of sex and salt.

No one spoke for several long minutes. Only the low hum of the ceiling fan and her occasional soft,

involuntary whimper broke the quiet.

Exactly sixty-three minutes later—Gupta had set a silent timer on his phone—the door to the attached

playroom clicked open again.

This time there was no rush, no barked orders.

Moin entered first, carrying nothing but a small bottle of warmed coconut oil. He moved with deliberate calm,

like a man who knew the next act would unfold exactly as he wished. Gupta followed, shirtless now, holding

only a length of soft black silk rope—thin, almost decorative. Rahul came last, bare to the waist, a single white

feather held loosely between his fingers.

Athidhi’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of their footsteps. She didn’t try to cover herself or sit up. She

simply watched them approach, pupils still blown wide from earlier overstimulation.

Moin knelt on the mattress beside her.

“On your back, sweetheart,” he said quietly—almost tenderly. “Arms above your head. Legs apart.”

She obeyed without hesitation, though her limbs shook. The silk rope came next—not for brutal binding this

time, but for slow, sensual restraint. Gupta tied her wrists together, then secured the loose end to the same

headboard posts she’d gripped earlier. The knots were firm but padded; the rope cradled rather than bit.

Rahul trailed the feather down the inside of her left arm—from elbow to wrist—then across her collarbone,

between her still-flushed breasts, circling each swollen nipple without ever quite touching. Her back arched

instinctively toward the ghost of contact.

Moin poured a thin stream of warm oil directly onto her sternum. It pooled between her breasts before he

spread it with broad, unhurried palms—down her ribs, over the soft curve of her belly, along her hip bones. He

avoided her core deliberately, letting the anticipation build.

Gupta mirrored him on her legs—oil slicked from ankles upward, thumbs pressing into the tender flesh behind

her knees, then along her inner thighs until he was inches from where she still dripped their earlier release.

He massaged the oil in slow circles, never breaching, only teasing the sensitive crease where thigh met torso.

Athidhi’s breathing turned deep and liquid.

“Haaaa… so gentle… after… after everything…” Her voice was hoarse, cracked, but softer now—almost

wondering.

Rahul leaned close to her ear. “We’re not done ruining you. We’re just changing the tempo.”

He finally let the feather drift lower—over her pubic mound, then along her outer lips—light enough that it felt

like breath rather than touch. Her hips rolled upward on pure reflex, seeking more.

Moin settled between her spread thighs. This time he didn’t plunge. He simply lowered his mouth and began

to lick—long, languid strokes that cleaned the mingled cum from her folds, then delved deeper, tongue

curling softly around her still-swollen clit without direct pressure. Every few passes he would pause to blow

cool air across the slick, heated flesh.

She moaned low and long, the sound vibrating through her entire body.

Gupta moved to her breasts—oiled palms cupping their full weight, thumbs brushing feather-light over

nipples in time with Moin’s tongue. No pinching, no twisting—just endless, slippery circles that made her arch

and sigh.

Rahul finally set the feather aside. He straddled her chest—careful not to put weight on her—his cock already

hard again, resting heavy and hot between her breasts. He pressed them together gently, creating a warm,

oiled channel, and began to rock slowly.

“Feel that?” he murmured. “Just sliding… no hurry…”

Athidhi’s head tipped back, throat exposed, lips parted. She didn’t speak anymore—only breathed,

whimpered, trembled.

Moin finally rose to his knees. He coated his length with more oil—slow, deliberate strokes—then pressed the

broad head against her entrance. No sudden thrust this time. He sank in millimeter by millimeter, letting her

feel every ridge, every vein, until he was seated fully once more. Then he simply held still, pulsing inside her

without moving.

Gupta took his place at her side. He guided her head toward him; she opened immediately, accepting him

with a soft, wet suck. No face-fucking—just slow, shallow slides past her lips while her tongue cradled him.

Rahul continued the languid tit-fuck—hips rolling in dreamy rhythm—occasionally pausing to let the head of

his cock brush her chin, her cheek, her parted lips.

For long minutes the only sounds were:

The slick glide of oiled skin.

Soft, wet sucking.

Moin’s low, steady exhales as he throbbed inside her without thrusting.

Athidhi’s increasingly desperate, muffled moans.

Then—gradually—Moin began to move.

Not hard. Not fast.

Deep, rolling grinds that stirred her from the inside, dragging against every oversensitive inch. Each slow

withdrawal pulled a fresh gush of arousal; each re-entry made her toes curl.

Gupta and Rahul matched the pace—unhurried, almost hypnotic.

She came like that—quietly at first.

A slow, rolling wave that built and built until her entire body bowed, thighs quivering, a long, trembling sigh

escaping around Gupta’s cock. No screaming this time. Just deep, pulsing contractions that milked Moin in

long, luxurious ripples.

He followed soon after—grinding deep and spilling inside her with a low groan, letting her feel every pulse.

Gupta came across her tongue a moment later—thick, warm spurts that she swallowed automatically, dazed.

Rahul finished between her breasts—painting the oiled valley white, then rubbing the head gently through

the mess he’d made.

They didn’t pull out immediately.

Moin stayed buried, softening slowly inside her while Gupta and Rahul untied her wrists with careful fingers.

They massaged the faint red marks, kissed the inside of each palm.

When Moin finally withdrew, a thick trickle followed—pale against her flushed skin.

They laid her gently on her side, curled around her like a protective cocoon—Rahul at her back, Gupta facing

her, Moin stretched along her legs. No words. Just warm skin, slowing breaths, the faint scent of coconut and

spent lust.

Athidhi’s eyes drifted closed.

She whispered once—barely audible—before sleep finally claimed her.

“…thank you…”

[Suresh@123]

The morning sun sliced through the half-open shutters of the island villa, painting harsh golden stripes across

Athidhi’s wrecked body. She lay sprawled on the ruined sheets—cum drying in sticky patterns on her inner

thighs, face, breasts—breathing in shallow, uneven hitches. The three men stood around the bed like hunters

admiring a felled trophy.

Gupta lit a cigarette, exhaled smoke toward the ceiling fan, then looked down at her with a lazy, victorious

smirk.

“Alright, enough fun,” he said, voice casual as if discussing the weather. “Three days. We’re square. Initially

your husband Kamal made the mistake—fucked around with fantacies, crossed lines. Then Rahul here took

first blood with you to balance the scales. But you… oh, you clever little bitch… tried to flip the script. Sent my

Shailaja straight to Kamal thinking you’d hurt me back.” He laughed, short and harsh. “Instead, your husband

turned my wife into his personal cum-dump for three full days while we turned you into ours. Tit for tat,

haan? All jokes now. Three days finished. Pack your shit. Helicopter’s already fueled. Go back to your Kamal.

Tell him we’re even.”

Rahul chuckled, wiping his cock clean on the edge of the sheet. Moin just grunted, arms crossed, watching

her like she might still be worth one more round.

Athidhi didn’t move at first. Then—slowly—her cracked lips curved. A weak, trembling laugh bubbled out of

her throat, raw from screaming.

“Haa… mmhaaa…” She pushed herself up on shaking elbows, mascara-streaked eyes glittering with

something dangerous. “You really think… you trapped me?”

Gupta’s smirk faltered for half a second.

She reached under the pillow—where no one had thought to look—and pulled out a slim satellite phone.

Black. Military-grade. Screen already glowing.

Gupta’s cigarette froze halfway to his mouth.

Athidhi tapped the screen once. A video began playing, muted at first, then she turned the volume up.

The feed showed Shailaja—Gupta’s elegant, always-composed wife—bent over the edge of a hotel bed in

Mumbai. Kamal stood behind her, pants around his ankles. His cock wasn’t the longest—maybe six inches—

but the girth was obscene, veins bulging, stretching her visibly with every slow, deliberate thrust. Shailaja’s

mouth hung open in a constant, broken moan.

“Ohhhh… haaaa… Kamal… yes… right there… deeper than he ever… haaaaa…”

Kamal gripped her hips, pulled her back hard. The wet slap echoed through the tiny speaker. He leaned

down, sucked hard on the side of her neck, then dropped to latch onto one dark, swollen nipple. Shailaja’s

back arched violently.

“Fuck… suck my navel again… please… like yesterday… haaaa…”

The camera angle shifted—clearly hidden, high quality, multiple angles spliced together. Day 1, Day 2, Day 3

timestamps in the corner. Shailaja riding him reverse cowgirl, then missionary with her legs over his

shoulders, then on her knees taking him down her throat until tears ran. Each clip ended the same way: her

screaming through another orgasm, body shaking, squirting onto the sheets while Kamal growled praise in her ear.

“Cum for me again, baby… seventh time today… good girl… soak me…”

Athidhi paused the video. Silence rang in the villa.

She looked up at Gupta. Her smile was sweet poison.

“Kamal recorded everything. Every angle. Every time she begged. Every time she said your name didn’t feel

like his. I have the full thirty-hour archive. Cloud-backed. Timed dead-man switch. You give me every original

copy of the last three days—every memory card, every drive, every cloud link you made of me—and it stays

buried. Refuse… and by tonight your board members, your investors, your entire fucking family get the

highlight reel. Shailaja cumming on another man’s cock while screaming how much better he stretches her.

Your reputation? Gone. Your marriage? Ashes.”

Gupta’s face had gone gray. The cigarette dropped, forgotten. He stared at the phone like it was a live

grenade.

Rahul took a step forward—instinct—but Moin put a heavy hand on his shoulder. No.

Gupta exhaled once, ragged.

“…Fine.”

He walked to the locked cabinet in the corner, thumbed the biometric scanner, and pulled out a small metal

case. Inside: four SD cards, two external drives, a burner laptop. He tossed it onto the bed beside her.

“All of it. Originals. No copies made.”

Athidhi checked each one methodically—plugging them into the satellite phone’s adapter, scanning file lists,

deletion logs. Satisfied, she nodded.

“Good boy.”

She stood—legs still trembling—wrapped a silk robe around her bruised, sticky body, and gathered the case.

“The helicopter will take you to Visakhapatnam. From there, commercial to Mumbai,” Gupta said tonelessly.

“We’re done.”
Athidhi paused at the door, turned back.

“One last thing.”

She opened the satellite phone again, unmuted, cranked the volume.

Shailaja’s voice filled the room—high, desperate, mid-orgasm.

“Kamal… fuck… your thick cock… splitting me open… Gupta never… haaaa… never made me cum like this…

never sucked my clit until I cried… please… fill me again… breed me… haaaaa…”

Athidhi let it play for ten full seconds—long enough for every man in the room to hear Shailaja beg for Kamal’s

cum in her womb—then cut it off.

“Enjoy the memories,” she whispered.

She walked out.

The helicopter blades were already thumping when she climbed in. As the island shrank below, Athidhi l

eaned back against the leather seat, case clutched to her chest.

She opened the phone one more time—not to threaten, but to watch.

Another clip. Night two. Kamal had Shailaja on her back, legs hooked over his elbows, folding her in half the

way Moin had done to Athidhi. But where Moin had been brutal, Kamal was deliberate—slow, grinding rolls

that dragged every thick inch along her front wall. Shailaja’s nails raked down his back. Her mouth moved in

constant, breathless chant.

“Deeper… stretch me… suck my navel again… yes… bite my nipples… haaaa… I’m cumming… again… Kamal… oh

god… seven times… how are you… haaaa…”

Kamal dipped his head, tongue tracing wet circles around her navel, then sucking hard while he kept that

punishing rhythm. Shailaja’s hips bucked wildly. Clear fluid sprayed between them. Kamal groaned against

her skin, never breaking pace.

“Again, baby… give me number eight… soak my cock… let me feel you clench…”

The clip ran long—twenty minutes of pure, focused worship. No rush. No degradation. Just relentless pleasure

until Shailaja was sobbing, begging him not to stop, promising anything if he’d keep fucking her like that.

Athidhi watched the entire thing twice during the flight.