It was the evening of the same day. The sun was gone. It was dark. I was sitting in my room, trying to breathe, trying to forget the girl tied outside. I felt like a caged animal.
Laxmi’s flat voice called up the stairs. “Dinner, Madam.”
I walked down. My legs were weak, and the fear was a physical weight.
I entered the living room. Vikram was already there. Not the ghost I thought of, he would be, but calm, sitting on the long sofa. He was watching the TV.
Beside him, on the floor, was the same girl with a dog leash. The one from the yard. The Leash Girl. Laxmi must have cleaned her.
She was still naked, but her hair was neat. She was sitting on her knees. Her head was resting on Vikram’s lap.
The sight hit my mind. It was so close, so wrong. So intimate, but completely dead. Vikram looked up. He smiled. It was a friendly smile, but it felt like a demon smiling in his own world.
“Meera! Long time, huh? Join us,” he said. His voice was calm. Friendly, even. But the chill in his eyes, that was the truth.
I sat far away. The Leash Girl didn’t look at me. Her eyes were dull, just waiting for his command. She was a shell.
Vikram didn’t rush. He picked up his fork and took a small bite of rice. He chewed slowly. Then, he looked down at the girl.
He put his fingers in his own mouth to wet them, then took a piece of roti (bread) and dipped it deep into the gravy. He held it right in front of her face.
“Open,” he said. Quietly. No anger.
She obeyed. Her mouth opened instantly. He placed the gravy-soaked bread inside her mouth. His fingers brushed her lips. She chewed with her eyes on his face, waiting. It was a sick act of a master and a sex slave. And I was the audience, not to entertain myself but to learn my future.
He kept going. A bite for him. Then, a slow, gentle stroke on her cheek. Then, a piece of food for her. At one point, he took a chicken leg. He dipped it in the sauce. He held it up.
“Lick,” he commanded.
She leaned up. Her tongue came out slightly, licking the sauce from the bone right in his hand. He laughed. It was a soft sound, a decent sound. But it didn’t feel good. It felt like the sound a killer makes when the job is clean.
He fed her more. He took a sip of his water, then leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. A long, exploring kiss. She didn’t move. She just received the kiss.
He pulled back. “Good girl,” he whispered, like a father praising a small child. His eyes met mine. I couldn’t eat. My food was turning to stone on the plate.
“Eat, Meera, chicken is so tasty today,” he ordered.
I forced one spoonful down. I don’t know if it was tasty, but honestly, it tasted like ash to me. Thanks to his cold smile at me. He finished his meal. He stood up.
“Laxmi,” he called. “The girl needs cleaning. She has been good.” Laxmi appeared and led the girl away, just as silently as before.
Now it was just me and Vikram in the quiet room. He didn’t need to speak about ownership. Every move he made, every small kindness he showed that girl, was a threat aimed at my heart.
He showed me he was capable of both gentle care and absolute terror. He sat on the sofa again. He patted the cushion right next to him.
“Come here, Meera. Why don’t you show my pet here how loving you can be?” He said.
I had no choice. I walked to the sofa. Then he said again, “Lick her asshole, Meera. Show her what a good girl you can be.”
I froze hearing that. I couldn’t believe what he was asking me to do. Looking at me, he froze, “Down,” he said.
There was no room for disobedience, no room for refusal. But I hesitated. My knees refused. So he reached out to me, just suddenly. He didn’t speak. He just waited. The silent command was enough. I spontaneously knelt down.
Then, Vikram nodded toward the Leash Girl’s private cleaning room. Laxmi had brought her back, but she was still not fully dressed. She was kneeling near the sofa, exactly where she had been.
She looked at me, her eyes were empty, devoid of any emotion, waiting. She knew this game. I leaned in; the smell, a mix of sweat and the soap Laxmi used, filled my nose. This was wrong. This was madness. But his hand was on my head, firm but guiding my movement.
With a shuddering breath, I stuck out my tongue, tracing a slow path over her asshole. The taste was bitter, the texture rough, and I felt total disgust. She flinched slightly at my touch, but otherwise, she remained still. I could feel her humiliation. We were both just objects to him.
My mind was screaming, Stop! Fight back! But my body betrayed me. So, I continued. I felt Vikram’s fingers tangle in my hair. He pulled gently, asserting his control.
I felt a strange emotion, a twisted knot of fear, disgust, and a sense of excitement. It was all new for me. After a while, beside me, the Leash Girl began to suck on Vikram’s cock, her head bobbing up and down in motion.
I felt a wave of shame wash over me, the reality of what I was doing. I was licking another woman’s asshole, really? I was always a bold lady, who follow own path. I never bent; I make people bend for me.
And now Vikram was showing me a place. It was not about licking the woman’s asshole, but he was portraying licking his dog’s asshole through this lady.
But amidst the shame, there was a thrill, a sense of pleasure that coursed through me. As I continued to lick the Leash Girl’s asshole, the taste and the texture became somewhat familiar.
I could see the Leash Girl’s lips wrapped around Vikram’s cock, her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked eagerly.
The sound of her slurping was erotic. The sight of the Leash Girl sucking, her eyes closed in bliss. I could feel my body responding, my pussy growing wet despite my mind’s protests.
I was scared, terrified of what Vikram was capable of. Of the power he held over me. But I was also excited, my body responding to the eroticism of the situation, forbidden pleasure that Vikram offered.
Then Vikram’s voice cut the silence; his question was for me, straightforward and blunt. “Are you wet, Meera?”
My mind went blank. The shame, the degradation of the last few minutes and still my body was reacting to the pure terror and dominance.
I couldn’t lie. But I couldn’t speak the truth either. “I… I don’t know,” It came out broken, awkward. Vikram’s hand shot out to grab the elastic of my pyjama with a jerk. He pulled me towards him.
I stumbled; I was dragged closer to him. He caressed my groin area over my pyjama. His touch was firm. With a swift movement, Vikram pulled down the lace of my pyjama. He let it fall to the floor, leaving me standing in my panties, and the dampness was clearly evident.
I felt vulnerable. Vikram’s hand ran over the fabric of my panties, his fingers traced the outline of my pussy. He then slipped his hand inside. His fingers were expertly finding my clit. My eyes were squeezed shut. I couldn’t speak. I could only breathe.
His touch was like fire, burning me from the inside out. I was not new to this. I had men before. Big men, powerful men. They knew how to touch. They knew how to please.
But this set my core on fire. I felt every movement, every slow caress, as if he knew the map of my pussy better than I did. Vikram drew his wet finger out. He reached it towards the Leash Girl’s face, “Smell it,” he ordered.
She leaned in, her nose twitched as she took in the scent. Vikram laughed, “Do you like the taste?” he asked while holding her face. She nodded.
“Do you want to taste?” The Leash Girl nodded. What else could she do?
She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties. She crawled to me. She gripped the elastic of my panties with her teeth. She pulled her head back hard, tugging like a dog pulling.
The fabric of the panties ripped and fell. She tossed the panty aside with a quick head flick. My hairy pussy exposed, yes, it was hairy. She leaned in, her tongue stuck out to clit like a dog drinking water, licking and lapping at my pussy with long, eager strokes.
The sensation was immediate and shocking. I moaned loudly. I couldn’t stop the sound. Vikram was watching, enjoying the spectacle. He reached out, grabbed the girl’s hair, and pulled her head back. He kissed her, deep and dominating.
“My pet has a great nose, you smell really good,” he said. It was a friendly sound. He spoke softly, “That’s my good pet.” He brought his hand down, hard, on her butt.
She yelped once, a small, choked sound, and went right back to licking pussy. The hit was an ugly reward.
After some minutes, Vikram reached for a white tube. Mint cream, maybe. He squeezed a long, cold line right onto my lips of pussy. The sensation was instant and impossible to resist. My hips started moving desperately. I was shaking.
He let the girl continue for a few minutes, allowing the pleasure to build to a terrifying peak.
Then, Vikram watched my shaking body, my fast breathing. He leaned down and whispered, “I see you’re still greedy, Meera. Just like when you took too much from the government files.”
He pulled the girl away abruptly. She whined softly, the lick stopped in the middle. He lightly tapped my nose with his finger, a gesture a parent gives a naughty child.
“Sorry. It’s bedtime for my pet. Don’t be disappointed.”
He stood up, held the leash, and walked toward the room. “Good night.”
He left me kneeling on the cold floor, burning with need. My body is frustrated with the intense, unfinished desire.
To be continued.
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