Adultery The Differential Equations of Lust : A Math Teacher's Web
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Update 5:
"That's it," Tarannum purred, her eyes never leaving his. "Come for me, you madarchod. Show me what a good boy you can be." Her words were like a slap in the face, the reality of his situation crashing down on him as she reached her own climax, her sandals digging into the couch cushions as she bucked her hips against him.
"Look at me when you come." Tarannum's command pierced through the haze of Ajay's panic as he felt his body responding to her relentless assault. He did not know what she meant by "coming," but he could feel something strange happening inside him, a pressure building that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His eyes remained locked on hers, filled with a mix of fear and awe at the power she wielded over him.
With a choking cry, Ajay's hips jerked involuntarily, eyes clenched shut, his teeth grinding together as he tried to hold back the inevitable. With a strangled cry, he came, his seed spurting into her, filling her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated. Tarannum's own climax hit her a moment later, a powerful wave that seemed to shake her to the core, leaving her breathless and satisfied.
Tarannum watched him, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're mine now." She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue probing his mouth, tasting the tears that had slipped down his cheeks.
The room was still, the only sound their harsh breathing. Tarannum's sandals remained in place, a silent sentinel to the act they had just committed. Ajay felt a wave of nausea wash over him, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his forced climax. He didn't know what to do, where to go. His mind was a tumult of emotions: fear, anger, disgust, and a strange, unwelcome arousal.
Tarannum's body went slack, her breathing slowing to a more normal rhythm. She leaned back, her sandals slipping off his thighs to the floor with a quiet thump. She looked down at him, a strange mix of satisfaction and pity in her eyes. "You see?" she whispered, her voice gentle now. "It wasn't so bad."
Ajay couldn't find the words to respond. He felt dirty, used, and utterly alone. He managed to push her off him, his body sticky with sweat and his own release. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his pants up hastily. The room spun around him, and he had to grab the back of the couch to steady himself.
Tarannum watched him with a knowing smile, her chest rising and falling with her labored breaths. She reached for her kameez, sliding it back over her shoulders with a casual grace that made Ajay's stomach churn. "Don't go," she said softly, her voice a siren's call. "We can do this again. You liked it, didn't you?"
But Ajay couldn't bear to look at her. He felt as if he were suffocating in the thick, heavy air of her lust. He stumbled towards the door, his legs wobbly with shock. "I have to go," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "My parents..."
Tarannum's smile never wavered, the satisfaction on her face a stark contrast to the horror etched on Ajay's. "Remember, Ajay," she called out as he reached for the doorknob, "you're mine now. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make sure your life is ruined." She paused, her eyes cold and calculating. "I have ways of making sure no one ever believes you."
Ajay stumbled out of the house, the cool evening air a slap in the face compared to the stifling heat of Tarannum's lust. His legs felt like jelly, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He couldn't go to the police, couldn't tell his parents. Who would believe a boy who had been raped by his own teacher?
He walked home in a daze, the sounds of the neighborhood muffled by the roar of his own thoughts. The bright lights of the street lamps did nothing to illuminate the darkness that had descended upon him. He felt like a ghost, passing through the world without leaving a trace.
Once inside his house, Ajay rushed to the bathroom, his eyes avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He scrubbed his body with scalding water, trying to wash away the feel of her touch. But it clung to him like a second skin, a reminder of the horror he had endured. His hands trembled as he tried to clean himself, the water turning pink as it swirled down the drain.
After what felt like an eternity, Ajay emerged from the bathroom, his skin red and raw from his frantic efforts. He slipped into his bed, his body sore and his mind racing. He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the images of Tarannum's sandal-covered feet, the smell of her perfume, and the taste of her whiskey-laced kisses. He felt violated, his innocence torn away by the very person he had trusted to guide him through the complexities of math and life.
"That's it," Tarannum purred, her eyes never leaving his. "Come for me, you madarchod. Show me what a good boy you can be." Her words were like a slap in the face, the reality of his situation crashing down on him as she reached her own climax, her sandals digging into the couch cushions as she bucked her hips against him.
"Look at me when you come." Tarannum's command pierced through the haze of Ajay's panic as he felt his body responding to her relentless assault. He did not know what she meant by "coming," but he could feel something strange happening inside him, a pressure building that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His eyes remained locked on hers, filled with a mix of fear and awe at the power she wielded over him.
With a choking cry, Ajay's hips jerked involuntarily, eyes clenched shut, his teeth grinding together as he tried to hold back the inevitable. With a strangled cry, he came, his seed spurting into her, filling her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated. Tarannum's own climax hit her a moment later, a powerful wave that seemed to shake her to the core, leaving her breathless and satisfied.
Tarannum watched him, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're mine now." She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue probing his mouth, tasting the tears that had slipped down his cheeks.
The room was still, the only sound their harsh breathing. Tarannum's sandals remained in place, a silent sentinel to the act they had just committed. Ajay felt a wave of nausea wash over him, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his forced climax. He didn't know what to do, where to go. His mind was a tumult of emotions: fear, anger, disgust, and a strange, unwelcome arousal.
Tarannum's body went slack, her breathing slowing to a more normal rhythm. She leaned back, her sandals slipping off his thighs to the floor with a quiet thump. She looked down at him, a strange mix of satisfaction and pity in her eyes. "You see?" she whispered, her voice gentle now. "It wasn't so bad."
Ajay couldn't find the words to respond. He felt dirty, used, and utterly alone. He managed to push her off him, his body sticky with sweat and his own release. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his pants up hastily. The room spun around him, and he had to grab the back of the couch to steady himself.
Tarannum watched him with a knowing smile, her chest rising and falling with her labored breaths. She reached for her kameez, sliding it back over her shoulders with a casual grace that made Ajay's stomach churn. "Don't go," she said softly, her voice a siren's call. "We can do this again. You liked it, didn't you?"
But Ajay couldn't bear to look at her. He felt as if he were suffocating in the thick, heavy air of her lust. He stumbled towards the door, his legs wobbly with shock. "I have to go," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "My parents..."
Tarannum's smile never wavered, the satisfaction on her face a stark contrast to the horror etched on Ajay's. "Remember, Ajay," she called out as he reached for the doorknob, "you're mine now. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make sure your life is ruined." She paused, her eyes cold and calculating. "I have ways of making sure no one ever believes you."
Ajay stumbled out of the house, the cool evening air a slap in the face compared to the stifling heat of Tarannum's lust. His legs felt like jelly, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He couldn't go to the police, couldn't tell his parents. Who would believe a boy who had been raped by his own teacher?
He walked home in a daze, the sounds of the neighborhood muffled by the roar of his own thoughts. The bright lights of the street lamps did nothing to illuminate the darkness that had descended upon him. He felt like a ghost, passing through the world without leaving a trace.
Once inside his house, Ajay rushed to the bathroom, his eyes avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He scrubbed his body with scalding water, trying to wash away the feel of her touch. But it clung to him like a second skin, a reminder of the horror he had endured. His hands trembled as he tried to clean himself, the water turning pink as it swirled down the drain.
After what felt like an eternity, Ajay emerged from the bathroom, his skin red and raw from his frantic efforts. He slipped into his bed, his body sore and his mind racing. He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the images of Tarannum's sandal-covered feet, the smell of her perfume, and the taste of her whiskey-laced kisses. He felt violated, his innocence torn away by the very person he had trusted to guide him through the complexities of math and life.
Last edited:
Update 6:
The next day at school, he walked the halls with his head down, avoiding the eyes of his classmates. When he saw Tarannum in the distance, his heart raced, and he ducked into a nearby classroom, his palms slick with sweat. The thought of facing her, of her knowing what she had done to him, was unbearable. But she was everywhere—her laughter echoing down the hallways, her voice a taunting siren's call that sent shivers down his spine.
He watched her from afar, dressed in a salwar kameez that was demure yet alluring, the dupatta draped elegantly around her shoulders. Her high-heeled sandals clicked against the tile floor, a sound that now made his stomach churn. They didn't seem like a symbol of power anymore, but rather a weapon of seduction, a tool to entrap the unsuspecting. Her hips swayed with a deliberate grace, and he knew that she was thinking of him, that she was playing with him, like a cat with a mouse.
As the day wore on, Ajay felt the weight of her words from the night before pressing down on him, crushing the air from his lungs. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, anger, and a sickening arousal that he couldn't shake. He avoided her gaze, the very sight of her making his skin crawl. But she found him, her eyes meeting his in the crowded hallway, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Tarannum was dressed in a stunning salwar kameez, the material clinging to her curves in a way that was both elegant and erotic. Her dupatta was draped artfully, hinting at the bare skin beneath. The high-heeled sandals she wore clicked confidently against the floor, each step a silent promise of the power she held over him. They added an allure to her gait, a seductive sway that drew the eyes of every male student, and the envy of the female ones.
In the classroom, she was the epitome of professionalism, her voice clear and firm as she guided the class through complex algebra equations. But every now and then, her eyes would flicker to Ajay, and the corner of her mouth would twitch up in a knowing smile. She was in complete control, her every gesture calculated to stir the potent cocktail of fear and desire that now ruled his days. The sandals, once a symbol of authority, had become a silent declaration of her sexual prowess, a promise of the debauchery that awaited him in the privacy of her home.
Her salwar kameez was a deep shade of emerald, the fabric whispering against her body as she moved. The neckline was modest, but the way she leaned over the desks to help the other students, her breasts would briefly graze the edge of the fabric, revealing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Her dupatta was a vibrant red, a stark contrast that only served to highlight the swell of her breasts beneath the kameez. The high-heeled sandals she wore added an extra dimension to her grace, the leather straps wrapping around her ankles and legs like a lover's embrace. They clicked against the floor with a rhythm that seemed to echo in his mind, a siren's song that drew him in despite his fear.
Tarannum's eyes searched the room, finally settling on Ajay. She held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, a smoldering heat burning in her eyes that made his cheeks flush. The class was a blur around him, his heart racing as she approached his desk. She leaned down, her breasts brushing against his arm, and whispered in his ear, "You know where to find me tonight." Her breath was warm and sweet, the scent of her perfume mingling with the faint hint of alcohol meaning she had started early. Her sandals clicked softly against the floor, the sound echoing in his ears like a promise of what was to come.
The rest of the day was a blur of fear and anticipation. Ajay couldn't focus on his lessons, the image of Tarannum's sandals etched into his mind, a silent reminder of her dominance. She had changed from the woman he had known, the one who had always been a figure of authority, to something darker, more primal. Her high-heeled sandals were no longer just a fashion statement but had become an extension of her power, a tool to control and manipulate.
The final bell rang, and the students spilled out into the hallway, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the silence in his own head. He gathered his books, his legs feeling like lead as he made his way home. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement.
In the evening, Ajay found himself unable to face the horror of Tarannum's house. He hovered on the terrace of his own home, his hand trembling as he clutched his phone. The sun had set, leaving the neighborhood bathed in a soft, eerie glow that seemed to highlight the shadows of his fear. He knew he couldn't go to her, couldn't endure another night of her twisted games. He needed to find a way to break free from her grasp.
But as the clock ticked closer to the time she usually expected him, the inevitable happened. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration a harsh reminder of his predicament. He pulled it out, his heart racing as he saw her name on the screen. He swiped to answer, his voice shaking as he tried to form an excuse. "I... I can't come tonight, ma'am. I'm not feeling well."
The line was quiet for a moment, and then her voice, slurred with alcohol, cut through the silence. "Don't lie to me, Ajay," she growled. "You know what happens when you don't come when I call." The threat in her words was as clear as the clinking of ice in a glass. "If you don't come now, I'll complain to the principal that you tried to take advantage of me. Who do you think they'll believe?"
Ajay felt his stomach drop, his palms slick with sweat. He couldn't risk her wrath, not now, not when she had the power to ruin his life with a single phone call. "I'm on my way," he murmured, his voice tight with fear. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and made his way downstairs, his legs feeling like they might give out beneath him.
The walk to her house was a blur of anxiety and dread. He didn't know how he was going to get through another night with her, didn't know how much more he could take. When he finally reached her door, he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself before ringing the bell.
The next day at school, he walked the halls with his head down, avoiding the eyes of his classmates. When he saw Tarannum in the distance, his heart raced, and he ducked into a nearby classroom, his palms slick with sweat. The thought of facing her, of her knowing what she had done to him, was unbearable. But she was everywhere—her laughter echoing down the hallways, her voice a taunting siren's call that sent shivers down his spine.
He watched her from afar, dressed in a salwar kameez that was demure yet alluring, the dupatta draped elegantly around her shoulders. Her high-heeled sandals clicked against the tile floor, a sound that now made his stomach churn. They didn't seem like a symbol of power anymore, but rather a weapon of seduction, a tool to entrap the unsuspecting. Her hips swayed with a deliberate grace, and he knew that she was thinking of him, that she was playing with him, like a cat with a mouse.
As the day wore on, Ajay felt the weight of her words from the night before pressing down on him, crushing the air from his lungs. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, anger, and a sickening arousal that he couldn't shake. He avoided her gaze, the very sight of her making his skin crawl. But she found him, her eyes meeting his in the crowded hallway, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Tarannum was dressed in a stunning salwar kameez, the material clinging to her curves in a way that was both elegant and erotic. Her dupatta was draped artfully, hinting at the bare skin beneath. The high-heeled sandals she wore clicked confidently against the floor, each step a silent promise of the power she held over him. They added an allure to her gait, a seductive sway that drew the eyes of every male student, and the envy of the female ones.
In the classroom, she was the epitome of professionalism, her voice clear and firm as she guided the class through complex algebra equations. But every now and then, her eyes would flicker to Ajay, and the corner of her mouth would twitch up in a knowing smile. She was in complete control, her every gesture calculated to stir the potent cocktail of fear and desire that now ruled his days. The sandals, once a symbol of authority, had become a silent declaration of her sexual prowess, a promise of the debauchery that awaited him in the privacy of her home.
Her salwar kameez was a deep shade of emerald, the fabric whispering against her body as she moved. The neckline was modest, but the way she leaned over the desks to help the other students, her breasts would briefly graze the edge of the fabric, revealing a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Her dupatta was a vibrant red, a stark contrast that only served to highlight the swell of her breasts beneath the kameez. The high-heeled sandals she wore added an extra dimension to her grace, the leather straps wrapping around her ankles and legs like a lover's embrace. They clicked against the floor with a rhythm that seemed to echo in his mind, a siren's song that drew him in despite his fear.
Tarannum's eyes searched the room, finally settling on Ajay. She held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, a smoldering heat burning in her eyes that made his cheeks flush. The class was a blur around him, his heart racing as she approached his desk. She leaned down, her breasts brushing against his arm, and whispered in his ear, "You know where to find me tonight." Her breath was warm and sweet, the scent of her perfume mingling with the faint hint of alcohol meaning she had started early. Her sandals clicked softly against the floor, the sound echoing in his ears like a promise of what was to come.
The rest of the day was a blur of fear and anticipation. Ajay couldn't focus on his lessons, the image of Tarannum's sandals etched into his mind, a silent reminder of her dominance. She had changed from the woman he had known, the one who had always been a figure of authority, to something darker, more primal. Her high-heeled sandals were no longer just a fashion statement but had become an extension of her power, a tool to control and manipulate.
The final bell rang, and the students spilled out into the hallway, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the silence in his own head. He gathered his books, his legs feeling like lead as he made his way home. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement.
In the evening, Ajay found himself unable to face the horror of Tarannum's house. He hovered on the terrace of his own home, his hand trembling as he clutched his phone. The sun had set, leaving the neighborhood bathed in a soft, eerie glow that seemed to highlight the shadows of his fear. He knew he couldn't go to her, couldn't endure another night of her twisted games. He needed to find a way to break free from her grasp.
But as the clock ticked closer to the time she usually expected him, the inevitable happened. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration a harsh reminder of his predicament. He pulled it out, his heart racing as he saw her name on the screen. He swiped to answer, his voice shaking as he tried to form an excuse. "I... I can't come tonight, ma'am. I'm not feeling well."
The line was quiet for a moment, and then her voice, slurred with alcohol, cut through the silence. "Don't lie to me, Ajay," she growled. "You know what happens when you don't come when I call." The threat in her words was as clear as the clinking of ice in a glass. "If you don't come now, I'll complain to the principal that you tried to take advantage of me. Who do you think they'll believe?"
Ajay felt his stomach drop, his palms slick with sweat. He couldn't risk her wrath, not now, not when she had the power to ruin his life with a single phone call. "I'm on my way," he murmured, his voice tight with fear. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and made his way downstairs, his legs feeling like they might give out beneath him.
The walk to her house was a blur of anxiety and dread. He didn't know how he was going to get through another night with her, didn't know how much more he could take. When he finally reached her door, he paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself before ringing the bell.
Update 7
The door swung open, and there she was, Tarannum, standing before him in a sheer nightie that left nothing to the imagination. The fabric clung to her curves, the transparency revealing the smooth, hairless mound between her legs. Her eyes were glassy with drink, her lips painted a dark shade of red that matched the stiletto sandals she wore. The heels had to be at least four inches high, making her tower over him in a way that was both terrifying and exciting.
The smell of whiskey wafted from her, mixing with the scent of her heavy perfume. She took a drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing in the dim light of the hallway. "You're late," she slurred, her voice a sweet, poisonous whisper. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, the click of her sandals echoing through the house.
The living room was a stark contrast to her attire, the walls adorned with IsIamic art depicting the holy city of Mecca and verses from the Quran written in elegant Arabic script. The sight of her in such a state, surrounded by these sacred symbols, made Ajay's stomach churn. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was a vision of beauty and depravity, a siren in a sea of virtue.
Tarannum took another drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing like a malevolent eye in the dimly lit room. She sauntered over to the couch, her hips swaying with a drunken grace that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her sandals clicked with each step, the sound echoing off the walls like the tick of a time bomb.
Ajay followed her, his eyes drawn to the way her nightie clung to her body, revealing every curve and shadow. The contrast between the holy images on the walls and the depraved scene unfolding before him was stark, a jolting reminder of the woman he had trusted. The sight of her bare feet in those towering sandals, the delicate arch of her foot, made his stomach twist in a knot of fear and arousal.
Tarannum's slurred voice was like a caress, a velvet-covered blade that slid through his defenses. She patted the couch next to her, the cigarette dangling from her fingers, the ash dangerously close to her nightie. "Come, sit," she said, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions, but it had also sharpened her predatory instincts. The half bottle of Royal-Stag whiskey on the coffee table was a testament to her evening's indulgence.
Ajay sat down, his eyes drawn to the religious art on the walls, the holy city of Mecca staring back at him in silent judgment. He felt the heat of her body, the warmth of her skin through the flimsy fabric of the nightie. Her sandals clicked against the marble floor as she shifted, the heels sinking slightly with each movement. The sight of her bare, hairless legs was both alluring and repulsive, a stark contrast to the sacred verses that surrounded them.
Her slurred voice was a symphony of sweetness and malice, each word a velvet-wrapped thorn that pierced his resolve. "You know, Ajay," she began, her eyes glinting with a cruel light, "you're the only one who knows what a dirty little secret I have." She took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her like a lover's embrace. "But you're going to keep it, aren't you?"
Tarannum's bare, hairless legs stretched out before him, the sandals accentuating their sleekness. The sight was almost mesmerizing, a stark contrast to the roughness of the act she had committed the night before. Her smooth skin seemed to glow in the dim light, a beacon of sin in a world that demanded purity. Ajay felt his heart hammer in his chest, his body responding to her in ways he didn't want to admit.
Her hand reached out, the tips of her fingers tracing a line from his knee to his thigh, sending a shiver up his spine. "You're so obedient," she purred, her voice a blend of sweetness and malice. "I like that in a boy." Her hand moved higher, her fingers dancing over the fabric of his pants. Despite his fear, he felt himself harden, the betrayal of his body a silent protest to the horror of his situation.
Tarannum noticed, her smile widening. "Looks like someone's enjoying themselves," she said, her eyes glinting with a predatory light. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "Don't worry, my little toy," she whispered. "You'll get used to it." Her hand closed around him, squeezing tightly, and Ajay bit back a gasp.
The room was well lit, the soft glow of the pendant lights revealing every detail of her flawless, hairless skin. Her smoothness was almost alien, a stark contrast to the roughness of his own body. He knew he should push her away, should scream for help, but the fear of her retribution kept his voice trapped in his throat. He sat there, trembling, as she continued to stroke him, her movements sure and confident.
Tarannum had always had a taste for the forbidden, and Ajay was her latest conquest. Despite her many encounters with men and women, there was something about the power she held over this young, innocent boy that thrilled her beyond words. Her eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure as she watched his fear mingle with the beginnings of arousal. Her voice was sweet, the words a gentle caress that made his stomach turn. "You're mine now, Ajay," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. "My little toy to play with whenever I wish."
Tarannum's hand slid higher up Ajay's thigh, her grip tightening around his erection. He could feel the heat of her breath on his neck, her whispers a mix of sweet promises and dark threats. "Let's go to my room," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. Ajay followed her on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, his eyes on the sway of her hips and the click of her sandals as they echoed through the hallway. Tarannum stumbled quite a bit, the whiskey having a firm grip on her senses as she teetered in her four-inch heels, her balance compromised but her desire unwavering.
The hallway was lined with family portraits and awards she had received over the years. The irony of her actions in such a personal space was not lost on Ajay. He followed her into the bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest, as she swayed down the corridor with the grace of a drunk gazelle leading him holding his hand. The room was well-appointed, a testament to her wealth, with a king-sized bed in the center, adorned with silk sheets and plush pillows. The scent of her perfume was thick in the air, a cloying mix of jasmine and musk that seemed to cling to every surface. The thick curtains were drawn to keep neighbors at bay, and the room was brightly lit, showcasing every inch of her opulent lifestyle.
Her sandals clicked against the polished hardwood floor, the sound a grim reminder of his fate. She released his hand and stumbled to the bed, her movements deliberate and exaggerated as she climbed onto the mattress. Ajay felt his knees wobble as she beckoned him closer, her eyes glazed with desire. She reached for the sash of her nightie, her full breasts spilling out as the fabric parted. Her skin was soft and pale, a stark contrast to the dark areolae and erect nipples that begged for attention.
"Take off your shirt," she slurred, her voice thick with need. Ajay's hands trembled as he obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers. He watched as she ran her fingers over her own breasts, her movements slow and sensual. His own body responded despite his fear, his erection pressing painfully against his pants.
With a smug smile, she reached out and unbuckled his belt, her eyes never leaving his. "You want this," she murmured, her hand sliding down to grip him firmly. Ajay flinched, his eyes squeezing shut as she began to stroke him through the fabric. "Look at me," she ordered, her voice harsher now. He opened his eyes, the humiliation and desire warring on his face as she stroked him.
Tarannum's hand moved deftly, pulling his pants down to expose his erection. He was young and uncut, his cock standing at attention despite the fear that clouded his eyes. She licked her lips, her gaze hungry as she took in the sight of him. She continued to stroke him, her grip firm and sure, watching as he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take off the rest," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. Ajay complied, his body moving on autopilot as he stepped out of his pants and underwear.
Her eyes roamed over his naked body, the muscles of his chest and stomach tight with tension. His legs were smooth and hairless, his cock pulsing with each beat of his racing heart. She smirked, the power of the situation intoxicating her. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, the words sticking in her throat like a mouthful of ash. "So perfect for what I need."
Tarannum's own nightie was cast aside, revealing her smooth, hairless form. Her breasts were large and heavy, the areolae dark and puckered. Her stomach was flat, a testament to the hours she spent at the gym and the calories she burnt with lots of sex. Her pussy was shaved clean, a pink slit surrounded by soft, inviting flesh. Ajay's eyes were glued to her body, his fear mixing with a reluctant fascination. She reached out, her hand wrapping around his cock, and brought it to her mouth. The contact was hot and wet, and Ajay couldn't hold back a whimper as she took him in, her eyes never leaving his.
Her mouth was a thing of beauty, a contradiction to the cruelty in her eyes. She sucked him deep, her tongue swirling around the head, her hand working his shaft in time with her mouth. Ajay felt his body betraying him, his hips moving of their own accord as he grew closer to climax. But she was in no hurry, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring his youthful vigor.
When she finally pulled away, her lips were glistening with his precum, and she smacked them together with a wet sound that made him cringe. "Now, my sweet boy," she purred, her voice a mix of sweetness and menace, "it's your turn to taste me." She spread her legs, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. Ajay felt his stomach lurch as he took in the sight of her bare, swollen pussy.
He knelt before her, his heart racing, his mouth dry with fear. Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into the plush mattress as she leaned back, her hand guiding his face towards her sex. "Lick me," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. "Lick me bhenchod, like the good little chutiya you are." Ajay's mind reeled at the vile words coming from the mouth of the woman who had been his teacher, his mentor. But fear held him captive, and he obeyed, his tongue tentatively touching the slick folds of her pussy.
The door swung open, and there she was, Tarannum, standing before him in a sheer nightie that left nothing to the imagination. The fabric clung to her curves, the transparency revealing the smooth, hairless mound between her legs. Her eyes were glassy with drink, her lips painted a dark shade of red that matched the stiletto sandals she wore. The heels had to be at least four inches high, making her tower over him in a way that was both terrifying and exciting.
The smell of whiskey wafted from her, mixing with the scent of her heavy perfume. She took a drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing in the dim light of the hallway. "You're late," she slurred, her voice a sweet, poisonous whisper. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, the click of her sandals echoing through the house.
The living room was a stark contrast to her attire, the walls adorned with IsIamic art depicting the holy city of Mecca and verses from the Quran written in elegant Arabic script. The sight of her in such a state, surrounded by these sacred symbols, made Ajay's stomach churn. Yet, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. She was a vision of beauty and depravity, a siren in a sea of virtue.
Tarannum took another drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing like a malevolent eye in the dimly lit room. She sauntered over to the couch, her hips swaying with a drunken grace that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her sandals clicked with each step, the sound echoing off the walls like the tick of a time bomb.
Ajay followed her, his eyes drawn to the way her nightie clung to her body, revealing every curve and shadow. The contrast between the holy images on the walls and the depraved scene unfolding before him was stark, a jolting reminder of the woman he had trusted. The sight of her bare feet in those towering sandals, the delicate arch of her foot, made his stomach twist in a knot of fear and arousal.
Tarannum's slurred voice was like a caress, a velvet-covered blade that slid through his defenses. She patted the couch next to her, the cigarette dangling from her fingers, the ash dangerously close to her nightie. "Come, sit," she said, her eyes heavy-lidded with lust. The alcohol had loosened her inhibitions, but it had also sharpened her predatory instincts. The half bottle of Royal-Stag whiskey on the coffee table was a testament to her evening's indulgence.
Ajay sat down, his eyes drawn to the religious art on the walls, the holy city of Mecca staring back at him in silent judgment. He felt the heat of her body, the warmth of her skin through the flimsy fabric of the nightie. Her sandals clicked against the marble floor as she shifted, the heels sinking slightly with each movement. The sight of her bare, hairless legs was both alluring and repulsive, a stark contrast to the sacred verses that surrounded them.
Her slurred voice was a symphony of sweetness and malice, each word a velvet-wrapped thorn that pierced his resolve. "You know, Ajay," she began, her eyes glinting with a cruel light, "you're the only one who knows what a dirty little secret I have." She took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her like a lover's embrace. "But you're going to keep it, aren't you?"
Tarannum's bare, hairless legs stretched out before him, the sandals accentuating their sleekness. The sight was almost mesmerizing, a stark contrast to the roughness of the act she had committed the night before. Her smooth skin seemed to glow in the dim light, a beacon of sin in a world that demanded purity. Ajay felt his heart hammer in his chest, his body responding to her in ways he didn't want to admit.
Her hand reached out, the tips of her fingers tracing a line from his knee to his thigh, sending a shiver up his spine. "You're so obedient," she purred, her voice a blend of sweetness and malice. "I like that in a boy." Her hand moved higher, her fingers dancing over the fabric of his pants. Despite his fear, he felt himself harden, the betrayal of his body a silent protest to the horror of his situation.
Tarannum noticed, her smile widening. "Looks like someone's enjoying themselves," she said, her eyes glinting with a predatory light. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. "Don't worry, my little toy," she whispered. "You'll get used to it." Her hand closed around him, squeezing tightly, and Ajay bit back a gasp.
The room was well lit, the soft glow of the pendant lights revealing every detail of her flawless, hairless skin. Her smoothness was almost alien, a stark contrast to the roughness of his own body. He knew he should push her away, should scream for help, but the fear of her retribution kept his voice trapped in his throat. He sat there, trembling, as she continued to stroke him, her movements sure and confident.
Tarannum had always had a taste for the forbidden, and Ajay was her latest conquest. Despite her many encounters with men and women, there was something about the power she held over this young, innocent boy that thrilled her beyond words. Her eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure as she watched his fear mingle with the beginnings of arousal. Her voice was sweet, the words a gentle caress that made his stomach turn. "You're mine now, Ajay," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. "My little toy to play with whenever I wish."
Tarannum's hand slid higher up Ajay's thigh, her grip tightening around his erection. He could feel the heat of her breath on his neck, her whispers a mix of sweet promises and dark threats. "Let's go to my room," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. Ajay followed her on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, his eyes on the sway of her hips and the click of her sandals as they echoed through the hallway. Tarannum stumbled quite a bit, the whiskey having a firm grip on her senses as she teetered in her four-inch heels, her balance compromised but her desire unwavering.
The hallway was lined with family portraits and awards she had received over the years. The irony of her actions in such a personal space was not lost on Ajay. He followed her into the bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest, as she swayed down the corridor with the grace of a drunk gazelle leading him holding his hand. The room was well-appointed, a testament to her wealth, with a king-sized bed in the center, adorned with silk sheets and plush pillows. The scent of her perfume was thick in the air, a cloying mix of jasmine and musk that seemed to cling to every surface. The thick curtains were drawn to keep neighbors at bay, and the room was brightly lit, showcasing every inch of her opulent lifestyle.
Her sandals clicked against the polished hardwood floor, the sound a grim reminder of his fate. She released his hand and stumbled to the bed, her movements deliberate and exaggerated as she climbed onto the mattress. Ajay felt his knees wobble as she beckoned him closer, her eyes glazed with desire. She reached for the sash of her nightie, her full breasts spilling out as the fabric parted. Her skin was soft and pale, a stark contrast to the dark areolae and erect nipples that begged for attention.
"Take off your shirt," she slurred, her voice thick with need. Ajay's hands trembled as he obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers. He watched as she ran her fingers over her own breasts, her movements slow and sensual. His own body responded despite his fear, his erection pressing painfully against his pants.
With a smug smile, she reached out and unbuckled his belt, her eyes never leaving his. "You want this," she murmured, her hand sliding down to grip him firmly. Ajay flinched, his eyes squeezing shut as she began to stroke him through the fabric. "Look at me," she ordered, her voice harsher now. He opened his eyes, the humiliation and desire warring on his face as she stroked him.
Tarannum's hand moved deftly, pulling his pants down to expose his erection. He was young and uncut, his cock standing at attention despite the fear that clouded his eyes. She licked her lips, her gaze hungry as she took in the sight of him. She continued to stroke him, her grip firm and sure, watching as he swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take off the rest," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. Ajay complied, his body moving on autopilot as he stepped out of his pants and underwear.
Her eyes roamed over his naked body, the muscles of his chest and stomach tight with tension. His legs were smooth and hairless, his cock pulsing with each beat of his racing heart. She smirked, the power of the situation intoxicating her. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, the words sticking in her throat like a mouthful of ash. "So perfect for what I need."
Tarannum's own nightie was cast aside, revealing her smooth, hairless form. Her breasts were large and heavy, the areolae dark and puckered. Her stomach was flat, a testament to the hours she spent at the gym and the calories she burnt with lots of sex. Her pussy was shaved clean, a pink slit surrounded by soft, inviting flesh. Ajay's eyes were glued to her body, his fear mixing with a reluctant fascination. She reached out, her hand wrapping around his cock, and brought it to her mouth. The contact was hot and wet, and Ajay couldn't hold back a whimper as she took him in, her eyes never leaving his.
Her mouth was a thing of beauty, a contradiction to the cruelty in her eyes. She sucked him deep, her tongue swirling around the head, her hand working his shaft in time with her mouth. Ajay felt his body betraying him, his hips moving of their own accord as he grew closer to climax. But she was in no hurry, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring his youthful vigor.
When she finally pulled away, her lips were glistening with his precum, and she smacked them together with a wet sound that made him cringe. "Now, my sweet boy," she purred, her voice a mix of sweetness and menace, "it's your turn to taste me." She spread her legs, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. Ajay felt his stomach lurch as he took in the sight of her bare, swollen pussy.
He knelt before her, his heart racing, his mouth dry with fear. Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into the plush mattress as she leaned back, her hand guiding his face towards her sex. "Lick me," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. "Lick me bhenchod, like the good little chutiya you are." Ajay's mind reeled at the vile words coming from the mouth of the woman who had been his teacher, his mentor. But fear held him captive, and he obeyed, his tongue tentatively touching the slick folds of her pussy.
Update 8:
Tarannum's moans grew louder as Ajay licked and kissed her, his mind racing with thoughts of escape. The smell of her arousal filled his nostrils, making him feel sick, yet his own body responded, trapped between the horror of his situation and the innate need for pleasure. She grabbed his hair, pushing his face closer, her hips grinding against his mouth. "Yes," she breathed, "just like that, madarchod."
Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into the mattress as she pulled him closer, her legs spread wide. Ajay's eyes were glazed with fear and disgust, but he obeyed, his tongue moving faster as she grew wetter. Her voice was a symphony of sweetness and filth, whispering degradations in his ear that made him feel like less than nothing. Yet, as much as he hated her, he couldn't deny the power she had over him.
Tarannum's hand tangled in his hair, guiding his mouth as she moaned and thrashed beneath him. Her other hand played with her own breasts, the tips hardening as she watched his face, contorted in a mix of revulsion and arousal. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. "Look at how much I enjoy your mouth on me, you little gandu chutiya."
Ajay felt the weight of her hand on the back of his head, pushing him down further as she grew wetter and more insistent. He could feel her fingers tightening around his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, but he didn't dare stop. The taste of her was bitter and foreign, but he knew better than to resist. The heels of her sandals were digging into the plush mattress as she ground against his face, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
And then it happened. Tarannum's body tensed, her legs clamping around his head as she reached her climax. He felt the hot gush of her juices spurt against his face, soaking him like a fountain of sin. Her moan was a keening wail that filled the room, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep within her, a place that had been long buried beneath layers of deceit and manipulation. Her body convulsed as she came, her pussy pulsing against his mouth in a display of primal need.
Ajay pulled away, gasping for air, his face wet and sticky with her release. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. Disgust and confusion clouded his features as he stared at her, his eyes wide with horror. He had never seen or experienced anything like this before. In his innocence, he had thought it was pee. "Why did you do that… Khan ma'am?" he choked out, his voice shaking.
Tarannum threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the room, a cruel mockery of his innocence. "That's what happens when a woman comes, Ajay," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You're learning so much tonight, aren't you?" She leaned back against the pillows, her chest heaving with the exertion of her climax. The sight of his distress and his naivety only served to heighten her excitement.
She watched him with a triumphant smile, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The power dynamics had shifted, and she knew it. Her hand released his hair, and she lay back, her legs spread wide, her sandals still planted firmly on the bed, the heels digging into the sheets like twin reminders of her dominance.
Tarannum reached up and grabbed Ajay's chin, her nails digging into his skin. She tilted his head back, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Look at me," she hissed, her eyes glinting with malice. "Look at what you do to me." Her voice was thick with lust and something else, something darker that sent a chill down his spine.
With a twisted smile, she brought her hand up to his face, her fingers coated in her own juices. Ajay flinched as she smeared the sticky wetness across his cheeks, the taste of her still in his mouth. "Such a good boy," she crooned, her voice slipping into a harsher tone as she leaned in closer. "Now, let me clean you up."
Tarannum pulled him up to her face, her eyes gleaming with a twisted mix of pleasure and malice. "Bhonsdike madarchod! Look what a mess you've made," she said, her voice a cocktail of lust and contempt as she examined his face, smeared with her essence. Ajay's eyes watered, his nose wrinkling at the bitter taste that clung to his lips. She leaned in, her breath hot and ragged, her tongue snaking out to lick a slow, deliberate path across his cheek.
Her tongue was rough and demanding, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm as if it were a sweet dessert. Ajay's eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling as she groaned with pleasure. Her hand was still wrapped in his hair, keeping him in place as she cleaned his face with long, slow strokes of her tongue. The saltiness of her sweat mixed with the tartness of her arousal, a flavor he would never be able to forget.
Tarannum's breath was hot against his skin as she whispered in his ear, "Look how much I own you, Ajay. How your mouth is now filled with my taste." Her words were a mix of Urdu slang and English, a toxic blend that left him feeling more violated than ever. "You're mine," she hissed, her tongue flicking out to lick his eyelid. "Mine to use whenever I want."
Ajay's face was a canvas of disbelief and revulsion as he realized what had just occurred. He had never seen or heard of such acts, his innocence shattered by the woman who was supposed to guide him through his adolescence. He tried to pull away, but her grip was like iron, her sandals digging into his back as she held him in place. "Khan ma'am, please, why are you doing this?" he pleaded, his voice cracking with fear and confusion.
Tarannum's laugh was a wicked symphony that filled the room. "It's part of the fun, my dear," she cooed, her breath reeking of whiskey and the sourness of her climax. "You're so pure, so untouched. It's a delicious little treat for me." Her eyes gleamed with a sadistic pleasure as she watched the horror unfold on Ajay's face.
Ajay's cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Please, let me go," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. But she only tightened her grip, her hand sliding down to his neck, her thumb stroking his pulse point with a gentle but firm pressure. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered, her voice a dark promise. "Not until I've had my fill."
Her eyes never left his as she reached down and took his cock in her hand, guiding it to her mouth. He watched in horror as her lips parted, her tongue flicking out to lick the head before taking him in. He felt her warm, wet mouth envelop him, her teeth scraping lightly against his sensitive skin. The sensation was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that made him moan against his will.
Tarannum sucked greedily, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoyed the taste of his fear and arousal. She could feel him getting harder, his body responding despite his mind's protests. Her hand was a vice around the base of his shaft, her movements swift and sure as she took him deeper, her throat constricting around his length. She hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body.
Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled away, panting. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper. Ajay's eyes met hers, filled with a mix of dread and arousal. She smirked, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. "Now, my pet," she said, her hand guiding his cock back to her mouth, "it's time for me to taste your sweet cream."
Her mouth closed around him again, her teeth scraping lightly along his shaft as she took him deep. Ajay's body jerked, the sensation overwhelming as she sucked and licked with a fervor that seemed to defy her age. Her hand worked in tandem, her thumb circling the base of his cock, her nails digging in just enough to sting. It was a dance of pain and pleasure that Ajay had never known existed, and his body responded with a fervor that matched hers.
The feeling grew, a pressure building in his balls that was both terrifying and exhilarating. It felt eerily similar to the previous evening, when she had claimed his virginity in a fierce, lustful rape. His hips began to move of their own accord, thrusting into her mouth as she took him deeper, her throat muscles contracting around him.
Tarannum's moans grew louder as Ajay licked and kissed her, his mind racing with thoughts of escape. The smell of her arousal filled his nostrils, making him feel sick, yet his own body responded, trapped between the horror of his situation and the innate need for pleasure. She grabbed his hair, pushing his face closer, her hips grinding against his mouth. "Yes," she breathed, "just like that, madarchod."
Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into the mattress as she pulled him closer, her legs spread wide. Ajay's eyes were glazed with fear and disgust, but he obeyed, his tongue moving faster as she grew wetter. Her voice was a symphony of sweetness and filth, whispering degradations in his ear that made him feel like less than nothing. Yet, as much as he hated her, he couldn't deny the power she had over him.
Tarannum's hand tangled in his hair, guiding his mouth as she moaned and thrashed beneath him. Her other hand played with her own breasts, the tips hardening as she watched his face, contorted in a mix of revulsion and arousal. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. "Look at how much I enjoy your mouth on me, you little gandu chutiya."
Ajay felt the weight of her hand on the back of his head, pushing him down further as she grew wetter and more insistent. He could feel her fingers tightening around his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, but he didn't dare stop. The taste of her was bitter and foreign, but he knew better than to resist. The heels of her sandals were digging into the plush mattress as she ground against his face, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
And then it happened. Tarannum's body tensed, her legs clamping around his head as she reached her climax. He felt the hot gush of her juices spurt against his face, soaking him like a fountain of sin. Her moan was a keening wail that filled the room, a sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep within her, a place that had been long buried beneath layers of deceit and manipulation. Her body convulsed as she came, her pussy pulsing against his mouth in a display of primal need.
Ajay pulled away, gasping for air, his face wet and sticky with her release. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. Disgust and confusion clouded his features as he stared at her, his eyes wide with horror. He had never seen or experienced anything like this before. In his innocence, he had thought it was pee. "Why did you do that… Khan ma'am?" he choked out, his voice shaking.
Tarannum threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the room, a cruel mockery of his innocence. "That's what happens when a woman comes, Ajay," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You're learning so much tonight, aren't you?" She leaned back against the pillows, her chest heaving with the exertion of her climax. The sight of his distress and his naivety only served to heighten her excitement.
She watched him with a triumphant smile, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The power dynamics had shifted, and she knew it. Her hand released his hair, and she lay back, her legs spread wide, her sandals still planted firmly on the bed, the heels digging into the sheets like twin reminders of her dominance.
Tarannum reached up and grabbed Ajay's chin, her nails digging into his skin. She tilted his head back, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Look at me," she hissed, her eyes glinting with malice. "Look at what you do to me." Her voice was thick with lust and something else, something darker that sent a chill down his spine.
With a twisted smile, she brought her hand up to his face, her fingers coated in her own juices. Ajay flinched as she smeared the sticky wetness across his cheeks, the taste of her still in his mouth. "Such a good boy," she crooned, her voice slipping into a harsher tone as she leaned in closer. "Now, let me clean you up."
Tarannum pulled him up to her face, her eyes gleaming with a twisted mix of pleasure and malice. "Bhonsdike madarchod! Look what a mess you've made," she said, her voice a cocktail of lust and contempt as she examined his face, smeared with her essence. Ajay's eyes watered, his nose wrinkling at the bitter taste that clung to his lips. She leaned in, her breath hot and ragged, her tongue snaking out to lick a slow, deliberate path across his cheek.
Her tongue was rough and demanding, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm as if it were a sweet dessert. Ajay's eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling as she groaned with pleasure. Her hand was still wrapped in his hair, keeping him in place as she cleaned his face with long, slow strokes of her tongue. The saltiness of her sweat mixed with the tartness of her arousal, a flavor he would never be able to forget.
Tarannum's breath was hot against his skin as she whispered in his ear, "Look how much I own you, Ajay. How your mouth is now filled with my taste." Her words were a mix of Urdu slang and English, a toxic blend that left him feeling more violated than ever. "You're mine," she hissed, her tongue flicking out to lick his eyelid. "Mine to use whenever I want."
Ajay's face was a canvas of disbelief and revulsion as he realized what had just occurred. He had never seen or heard of such acts, his innocence shattered by the woman who was supposed to guide him through his adolescence. He tried to pull away, but her grip was like iron, her sandals digging into his back as she held him in place. "Khan ma'am, please, why are you doing this?" he pleaded, his voice cracking with fear and confusion.
Tarannum's laugh was a wicked symphony that filled the room. "It's part of the fun, my dear," she cooed, her breath reeking of whiskey and the sourness of her climax. "You're so pure, so untouched. It's a delicious little treat for me." Her eyes gleamed with a sadistic pleasure as she watched the horror unfold on Ajay's face.
Ajay's cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Please, let me go," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. But she only tightened her grip, her hand sliding down to his neck, her thumb stroking his pulse point with a gentle but firm pressure. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered, her voice a dark promise. "Not until I've had my fill."
Her eyes never left his as she reached down and took his cock in her hand, guiding it to her mouth. He watched in horror as her lips parted, her tongue flicking out to lick the head before taking him in. He felt her warm, wet mouth envelop him, her teeth scraping lightly against his sensitive skin. The sensation was jarring, a mix of pain and pleasure that made him moan against his will.
Tarannum sucked greedily, her eyes fluttering closed as she enjoyed the taste of his fear and arousal. She could feel him getting harder, his body responding despite his mind's protests. Her hand was a vice around the base of his shaft, her movements swift and sure as she took him deeper, her throat constricting around his length. She hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body.
Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled away, panting. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper. Ajay's eyes met hers, filled with a mix of dread and arousal. She smirked, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. "Now, my pet," she said, her hand guiding his cock back to her mouth, "it's time for me to taste your sweet cream."
Her mouth closed around him again, her teeth scraping lightly along his shaft as she took him deep. Ajay's body jerked, the sensation overwhelming as she sucked and licked with a fervor that seemed to defy her age. Her hand worked in tandem, her thumb circling the base of his cock, her nails digging in just enough to sting. It was a dance of pain and pleasure that Ajay had never known existed, and his body responded with a fervor that matched hers.
The feeling grew, a pressure building in his balls that was both terrifying and exhilarating. It felt eerily similar to the previous evening, when she had claimed his virginity in a fierce, lustful rape. His hips began to move of their own accord, thrusting into her mouth as she took him deeper, her throat muscles contracting around him.
Update 9
Tarannum's eyes locked onto his, a fierce hunger burning within them. She could feel him getting closer, his body tensing beneath her grip. Her own arousal spiked, knowing that she had brought this innocent boy to the brink of ecstasy against his will. Ajay's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief, his hips moving erratically as he approached the unknown.
The previous day, when she had forced him to come, it had been like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. Ajay had never even touched himself in that way, never experienced the overwhelming pleasure that was now building within him. As she felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm, her own desire grew. She craved the taste of his virgin cum, the thought of it making her pussy throb with need. Her movements grew more frenzied, her hand a blur as she worked him closer to the edge.
Ajay's eyes rolled back in his head, his body stiffening as the orgasm ripped through him. He had no control over his reactions, his body a traitor to his mind. The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming that he couldn't even protest as he spilled into her mouth, his seed hot and sticky on her tongue. Tarannum swallowed greedily, her eyes never leaving his, the triumph in her gaze unmistakable.
The room was silent except for their harsh breathing, the smell of sex and fear thick in the air. Ajay's body went slack, his legs trembling as he tried to process what had just happened. It was similar to the night before, when his first orgasm had been ripped from him against his will, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He could feel her hand still wrapped around his softening cock, her grip loosening but not letting go.
Tarannum sat up, a smug smile playing on her lips as she looked down at him. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of his innocence. "So, how was that?"she asked, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "You came so nicely filling up your teacher’s mouth with your little man’s juice, while fucking me like a champ.” Ajay couldn't speak, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He felt dirty, used, and utterly powerless.
But she wasn't done with him yet. Her hand slid down his body, her nails scraping against his sensitive skin as she reached for his cock. It was still semi-hard, a testament to the confusion of his body's response to her abuse. "Looks like you enjoyed it," she murmured, her thumb circling the head. "But we can't have you going home with that kind of energy, can we?"
With surprising strength, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her sandals digging into his thighs. She leaned forward, her heavy breasts hanging in his face like twin moons of temptation. "Play with them," she ordered, her voice a seductive purr. "Make them feel good for me." Ajay's hands trembled as he obeyed, his fingertips brushing against the soft mounds. They were warm and yielding, the feeling strange and unwelcome.
He tried to focus on anything but her, his eyes straying to the holy images on the wall. But Tarannum was having none of it. She grabbed his head, her nails digging into his scalp as she forced his face into her cleavage. "Look at me," she demanded, her breath hot against his ear. "Look at your teacher, the woman you worship." He could feel the heat of her body, the weight of her breasts pressing against him as she guided his hands to squeeze and knead them.
Her skin was like velvet, her nipples hard and erect against his palms. The jasmine scent of her perfume was suffocating, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. "Lick them," she breathed, her voice thick with desire. "Show me how much you want me." Ajay's tongue darted out, tentatively flicking against one of her nipples. The taste was foreign, but the feeling of powerlessness was all too familiar.
Tarannum moaned, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Yes," she hissed, her hand guiding his mouth to her other breast. "Just like that, you dirty little thing." Her sandals remained in place, the heels digging into his thighs like twin anchors holding him in place. Ajay felt the muscles in his jaw clench as he complied, his tongue circling her areola, her moans growing louder.
Her hands roamed over his body, her nails raking across his chest and stomach, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She grabbed his hands again, bringing them to her breasts and forcing him to squeeze them harder. "You like that, don't you?" she taunted, her voice a mix of lust and amusement. "My big, fat boobs in your little hands." Ajay could feel the heat of her breath against his ear, her words a toxic cocktail that made him want to both push her away and submit to her will.
Her thumbs flicked his nipples, the sensation sending a bolt of arousal straight to his cock. He gasped, his body betraying him as it began to harden again. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, her pussy already slick with need. "Feel how wet you make me," she murmured, her voice a sweet poison that coiled around his soul. "Feel how much I want you."
Ajay's fingers trembled as he touched her, the softness and heat of her sex unlike anything he had ever felt before. She moaned, her hips rolling against his hand as she leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into his thighs as she ground against his hand, her movements frantic and demanding.
Tarannum's eyes never left his as she whispered dirty words in his ear, her breath hot and ragged. "Yes, just like that," she urged, her voice a seductive hiss. "Show me how much you want your teacher." Ajay felt his stomach churn, but his body responded, his cock growing harder as she manipulated him.
Her hand guided his, pushing his fingers into her wetness, the sticky warmth of her arousal coating his hand. He gasped as she began to grind against him, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate circle that made his head spin. "Fuck me," she breathed, her voice a low growl of need. "Fuck me like the little madarchod you are."
Ajay felt his body respond, his cock thickening against her thigh. He didn't want this, didn't want any of this, but his body was a traitor, responding to the primal urges she stirred within him. His fingers slid inside her, the sensation making him feel sick and aroused at the same time. She moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure as she began to ride his hand, her sandals still digging into his legs.
Tarannum's breathing grew ragged, her hips bucking against his hand as she approached her climax. The sound of her wetness filled the room, a stark contrast to the silence of the night outside. Ajay felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead as he watched her, his mind racing with a mix of fear and fascination.
With a final, desperate thrust, Tarannum's body stiffened, and she let out a guttural moan as she came, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Ajay could feel the power in her body, the way she writhed and shuddered with pleasure, and for a brief moment, he almost felt like he had some semblance of control. But it was fleeting.
Before the tremors had even stopped, she rolled off him, landing on her back with a thud and the heels of her sandals digging into the bed. Tarannum's eyes were hooded, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she spread her legs wide, the musky scent of her desire filling the room. "Now, fuck me madarchod," she ordered, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I want to feel you inside me."
Ajay stared at her, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He didn't know how to process the tumult of emotions coursing through him, but his body had a mind of its own. His cock was still hard, his body responding to her command despite his horror. He positioned himself between her legs, his knees sinking into the softness of the bed, and she reached down to guide him, her hand wrapping around his shaft with a firmness that brooked no argument.
Tarannum's eyes never left his as she lined him up with her wetness, her thumb stroking the head of his cock. "Look at me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "Bhonsdike… look at me as you take my pussy." He tried to focus on anything but the lust in her gaze, his eyes dropping to her sandals, the heels digging into the bed like twin symbols of his degradation.
With a grunt of effort, he pushed into her, feeling the tight warmth of her sex envelop him. It was a strange sensation, one that filled him with a mix of fear and arousal. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the sandals digging into his buttocks. "Good boy," she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and victory. "Fuck me, harami saale. Make me feel good."
Her words were like a knife to his soul, but his body didn't care. It responded to the heat of her, the slickness of her pussy as he began to move his hips. Ajay felt like a puppet on a string, his movements jerky and unsure. Tarannum's hand guided him, showing him the rhythm she wanted, her nails digging into his skin. "Just like that," she murmured, her eyes opening to meet his. "Just like that, mere bhonsad-chod pille."
Ajay's heart raced as he pushed into her, her sandals digging into his ass like two points of fire. He didn't know how to make this feel good for her, didn't know what he was doing, but she seemed to revel in his inexperience. Her eyes were half-lidded, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure as he fucked her. Each thrust brought him closer to the edge, his body responding despite his mind's screams of protest.
He could feel the muscles in her pussy tightening around him, her hips rising to meet his. "Fuck me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "Harder, faster." Her words were like a spell, his body moving of its own accord as he tried to give her what she wanted. The bed rocked beneath them, the slap of her sandals against his skin a steady rhythm that matched the beat of his thrusts.
Tarannum's eyes locked onto his, a fierce hunger burning within them. She could feel him getting closer, his body tensing beneath her grip. Her own arousal spiked, knowing that she had brought this innocent boy to the brink of ecstasy against his will. Ajay's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief, his hips moving erratically as he approached the unknown.
The previous day, when she had forced him to come, it had been like watching a butterfly emerge from its cocoon. Ajay had never even touched himself in that way, never experienced the overwhelming pleasure that was now building within him. As she felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm, her own desire grew. She craved the taste of his virgin cum, the thought of it making her pussy throb with need. Her movements grew more frenzied, her hand a blur as she worked him closer to the edge.
Ajay's eyes rolled back in his head, his body stiffening as the orgasm ripped through him. He had no control over his reactions, his body a traitor to his mind. The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming that he couldn't even protest as he spilled into her mouth, his seed hot and sticky on her tongue. Tarannum swallowed greedily, her eyes never leaving his, the triumph in her gaze unmistakable.
The room was silent except for their harsh breathing, the smell of sex and fear thick in the air. Ajay's body went slack, his legs trembling as he tried to process what had just happened. It was similar to the night before, when his first orgasm had been ripped from him against his will, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He could feel her hand still wrapped around his softening cock, her grip loosening but not letting go.
Tarannum sat up, a smug smile playing on her lips as she looked down at him. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of his innocence. "So, how was that?"she asked, her voice like a serpent's hiss. "You came so nicely filling up your teacher’s mouth with your little man’s juice, while fucking me like a champ.” Ajay couldn't speak, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He felt dirty, used, and utterly powerless.
But she wasn't done with him yet. Her hand slid down his body, her nails scraping against his sensitive skin as she reached for his cock. It was still semi-hard, a testament to the confusion of his body's response to her abuse. "Looks like you enjoyed it," she murmured, her thumb circling the head. "But we can't have you going home with that kind of energy, can we?"
With surprising strength, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her sandals digging into his thighs. She leaned forward, her heavy breasts hanging in his face like twin moons of temptation. "Play with them," she ordered, her voice a seductive purr. "Make them feel good for me." Ajay's hands trembled as he obeyed, his fingertips brushing against the soft mounds. They were warm and yielding, the feeling strange and unwelcome.
He tried to focus on anything but her, his eyes straying to the holy images on the wall. But Tarannum was having none of it. She grabbed his head, her nails digging into his scalp as she forced his face into her cleavage. "Look at me," she demanded, her breath hot against his ear. "Look at your teacher, the woman you worship." He could feel the heat of her body, the weight of her breasts pressing against him as she guided his hands to squeeze and knead them.
Her skin was like velvet, her nipples hard and erect against his palms. The jasmine scent of her perfume was suffocating, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. "Lick them," she breathed, her voice thick with desire. "Show me how much you want me." Ajay's tongue darted out, tentatively flicking against one of her nipples. The taste was foreign, but the feeling of powerlessness was all too familiar.
Tarannum moaned, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Yes," she hissed, her hand guiding his mouth to her other breast. "Just like that, you dirty little thing." Her sandals remained in place, the heels digging into his thighs like twin anchors holding him in place. Ajay felt the muscles in his jaw clench as he complied, his tongue circling her areola, her moans growing louder.
Her hands roamed over his body, her nails raking across his chest and stomach, leaving trails of fire in their wake. She grabbed his hands again, bringing them to her breasts and forcing him to squeeze them harder. "You like that, don't you?" she taunted, her voice a mix of lust and amusement. "My big, fat boobs in your little hands." Ajay could feel the heat of her breath against his ear, her words a toxic cocktail that made him want to both push her away and submit to her will.
Her thumbs flicked his nipples, the sensation sending a bolt of arousal straight to his cock. He gasped, his body betraying him as it began to harden again. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, her pussy already slick with need. "Feel how wet you make me," she murmured, her voice a sweet poison that coiled around his soul. "Feel how much I want you."
Ajay's fingers trembled as he touched her, the softness and heat of her sex unlike anything he had ever felt before. She moaned, her hips rolling against his hand as she leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest. Her sandals remained on, the heels digging into his thighs as she ground against his hand, her movements frantic and demanding.
Tarannum's eyes never left his as she whispered dirty words in his ear, her breath hot and ragged. "Yes, just like that," she urged, her voice a seductive hiss. "Show me how much you want your teacher." Ajay felt his stomach churn, but his body responded, his cock growing harder as she manipulated him.
Her hand guided his, pushing his fingers into her wetness, the sticky warmth of her arousal coating his hand. He gasped as she began to grind against him, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate circle that made his head spin. "Fuck me," she breathed, her voice a low growl of need. "Fuck me like the little madarchod you are."
Ajay felt his body respond, his cock thickening against her thigh. He didn't want this, didn't want any of this, but his body was a traitor, responding to the primal urges she stirred within him. His fingers slid inside her, the sensation making him feel sick and aroused at the same time. She moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure as she began to ride his hand, her sandals still digging into his legs.
Tarannum's breathing grew ragged, her hips bucking against his hand as she approached her climax. The sound of her wetness filled the room, a stark contrast to the silence of the night outside. Ajay felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead as he watched her, his mind racing with a mix of fear and fascination.
With a final, desperate thrust, Tarannum's body stiffened, and she let out a guttural moan as she came, her pussy clenching around his fingers. Ajay could feel the power in her body, the way she writhed and shuddered with pleasure, and for a brief moment, he almost felt like he had some semblance of control. But it was fleeting.
Before the tremors had even stopped, she rolled off him, landing on her back with a thud and the heels of her sandals digging into the bed. Tarannum's eyes were hooded, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she spread her legs wide, the musky scent of her desire filling the room. "Now, fuck me madarchod," she ordered, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I want to feel you inside me."
Ajay stared at her, his heart racing and his mind reeling. He didn't know how to process the tumult of emotions coursing through him, but his body had a mind of its own. His cock was still hard, his body responding to her command despite his horror. He positioned himself between her legs, his knees sinking into the softness of the bed, and she reached down to guide him, her hand wrapping around his shaft with a firmness that brooked no argument.
Tarannum's eyes never left his as she lined him up with her wetness, her thumb stroking the head of his cock. "Look at me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "Bhonsdike… look at me as you take my pussy." He tried to focus on anything but the lust in her gaze, his eyes dropping to her sandals, the heels digging into the bed like twin symbols of his degradation.
With a grunt of effort, he pushed into her, feeling the tight warmth of her sex envelop him. It was a strange sensation, one that filled him with a mix of fear and arousal. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the sandals digging into his buttocks. "Good boy," she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and victory. "Fuck me, harami saale. Make me feel good."
Her words were like a knife to his soul, but his body didn't care. It responded to the heat of her, the slickness of her pussy as he began to move his hips. Ajay felt like a puppet on a string, his movements jerky and unsure. Tarannum's hand guided him, showing him the rhythm she wanted, her nails digging into his skin. "Just like that," she murmured, her eyes opening to meet his. "Just like that, mere bhonsad-chod pille."
Ajay's heart raced as he pushed into her, her sandals digging into his ass like two points of fire. He didn't know how to make this feel good for her, didn't know what he was doing, but she seemed to revel in his inexperience. Her eyes were half-lidded, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure as he fucked her. Each thrust brought him closer to the edge, his body responding despite his mind's screams of protest.
He could feel the muscles in her pussy tightening around him, her hips rising to meet his. "Fuck me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "Harder, faster." Her words were like a spell, his body moving of its own accord as he tried to give her what she wanted. The bed rocked beneath them, the slap of her sandals against his skin a steady rhythm that matched the beat of his thrusts.
Update 10
Tarannum's eyes never left his, the hunger in them growing with every stroke. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Look at me as you fuck me, you little kuttey ka pillu." Ajay's mind rebelled at the words, but his body responded, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of her with a wet, sloppy sound that filled the room.
Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her sandals digging into his buttocks, guiding his movements, pushing him deeper. Ajay could feel the tension in her body, the way she arched her back and moaned with every thrust. Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of pain that only served to drive him closer to the edge. He didn't know what he was doing, but he could feel the power of it, the way she was using him for her pleasure.
Tarannum's eyes never left his, her pupils dilated with lust. She whispered filthy words in his ear, her breath hot and fast. "Fuck me, madarchod" she urged, her voice a mix of pleasure and pain. "Harder, deeper." Her hips rose to meet his, her muscles tightening around him as she grew closer to climax. The bed was a cacophony of sounds, the slap of skin against skin, the wet squelch of her pussy, and the grunts of their shared effort.
Ajay felt his own orgasm building, his body moving of its own accord, driven by a need he didn't understand. He had never felt anything like this before, the power of her desire overwhelming him. He watched as her face contorted with pleasure, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to stifle her screams. The room spun around him, the walls closing in as he reached the brink.
With a guttural groan, he felt himself spilling into her, the warmth of his seed filling her. At the same moment, Tarannum's eyes widened, and she let out an ear-piercing scream of pure, unbridled lust. Her legs tightened around his waist, her sandals pressing into his buttocks like twin vices as she pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around his neck like a vice. Her big breasts squeezed between them, adding to the crushing weight of her embrace.
Her kiss was demanding, her tongue invading his mouth as her hips bucked wildly, riding out the waves of her own climax. Ajay's mind was a whirlwind, torn between the horror of what he was doing and the primal instinct to satisfy the woman beneath him. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and dominance that made him feel both terrified and alive.
As their bodies stilled, the reality of what had happened began to seep into Ajay's consciousness. He pulled away, his cock slipping out of her with a wet sound that made him cringe. He looked down at her, her face flushed with pleasure, her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. The room was filled with the scent of sex, and all he could do was stare in disbelief.
Tarannum's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her sandals still digging into the bed. She looked up at him with a smug smile, her eyes glinting with victory. "You see," she purred, "you're not so innocent after all." Ajay felt the weight of her words, the truth in them a slap in the face. He had been used, manipulated, and there was no denying the part his body had played in her sick game.
Her hand reached out to caress his cheek, her touch cold and clammy. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. "Some milk or a shake, perhaps?" Ajay's stomach churned at the thought of food or drink. He couldn't imagine swallowing anything without throwing it back up. He shook his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. "No, I'm fine."
Tarannum's smile was knowing, a smug curve of her lips. She rolled off the bed, her sandals clacking against the floor as she swayed drunkenly. "Suit yourself," she murmured, sauntering out of the room. Ajay took the opportunity to scramble into his clothes, his heart racing as he dressed. The smell of sex clung to him like a second skin, a foul reminder of what had just transpired.
When she returned, she was still naked except for the sandals, the cigarette dangling from her mouth and a half-filled glass of whiskey in her hand. She took a deep drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing like a fiery ember in the dim light.
Tarannum sat beside Ajay, her thigh pressing against his. She took another drag, and with a cruel smile, blew the smoke into his face. "You see, Ajay," she slurred, her voice thick with the sweet scent of alcohol and malice. "Math isn't the only thing I can teach you." Her hand was on his cheek, her thumb tracing lazy circles that made him shiver with revulsion. "I'm going to be your sex guru now, too."
Her eyes gleamed with a dark excitement as she leaned closer, her breath warm and smoky on his skin. "You're going to learn everything there is to know about pleasure," she whispered, her voice a serpent's hiss. "But only when I want it, and how I want it." The power in her words was palpable, the promise of more nights like this one a prison sentence of pleasure and pain.
Ajay felt his stomach churn, the smoke from her cigarette making him lightheaded. He tried to pull away, but her hand tightened on his cheek, her nails digging into his skin. "You're mine now," she murmured, her breath hot and foul. "My little fuck toy, my dog, my property." The vile names rolled off her tongue like sweet nothings, each one stinging like a slap.
Tarannum took another drag and sip of her whiskey, her gaze never leaving Ajay's. "You know," she began, her voice a sultry purr, "in your Hin-du traditions, the teacher is considered a guru, right?" Ajay nodded, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. "And gurus are to be worshipped and obeyed without question, aren't they?"
Ajay swallowed hard, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten. "Y-yes, but-" he began, his voice shaking with confusion.
"But what?" Tarannum's smile grew even more wicked. "You're a good little Hindoo boy, aren't you? You know what you're supposed to do for your guru." Her hand trailed down to his neck, her grip tightening as she pushed him down. "Kneel," she ordered, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "Kneel and worship your new guru,” she said, gesturing to her sandal-covered feet.
Ajay's mind reeled with a mix of horror and submission as Tarannum's hand pushed him down to his knees. The coldness of the floor sent a shiver through his body, and the smell of her sandals, a potent blend of leather and sweat, filled his nostrils. He looked up at her, the haze of fear and confusion in his eyes. She took another sip of whiskey, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure. "Go on," she urged, her foot nudging his chin. "Show me how much you respect your guru."
With trembling hands, Ajay reached out and took her sandal in his grasp. The leather was smooth and cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his embarrassment. He leaned in, his eyes focusing on the delicate line of her toes peeking out from the strap. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but the fear of what she might do to him if he didn't comply was stronger. He kissed her foot, the taste of her skin bitter and foreign on his lips.
Tarannum's eyes watched him with a mix of amusement and hunger. "That's it," she encouraged, her voice a sultry whisper. "Now lick." Ajay's tongue darted out, tentatively touching the arch of her foot. She let out a small gasp, the sound of it making his stomach turn. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back as he obeyed her command, his tongue tracing the line of her foot, from her heel to her toes.
The leather of the sandal was smooth under his tongue, the taste faintly bitter and unpleasant. But she didn't seem to care about his discomfort, her eyes closed in pleasure as he licked the straps that wrapped around her ankle. She shifted her foot, exposing the soft flesh between her toes. "Closer," she murmured, her hand pushing his head down. He licked the spaces between her toes, feeling her sandal's strap dig into his cheek.
Her toes curled slightly at the contact, and she let out a contented sigh. "That's it," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "Suck on them." Ajay felt his stomach turn, but he obeyed, taking one of her toes into his mouth and sucking gently. She gasped, her foot jerking slightly in his grasp. "Harder," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. He complied, his teeth scraping the soft pad of her toe.
Tarannum leaned back, her hand reaching for the glass of whiskey on the bedside table. She took a sip, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light as she watched him with a twisted smile. "Now the soles," she said, her eyes snapping open. "I want them clean, do you understand?" Ajay nodded, his cheeks flaming with humiliation.
He took a deep breath and placed his tongue against the first sandal's sole, the taste of leather and dust coating his mouth. He worked meticulously, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes as he tried to scrub away the grime. Each pass was a silent plea for this nightmare to end, for her to release him from this twisted ritual. But she didn't relent, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him with a mix of amusement and lust.
When he had finished with one sandal, she held out the other, her toes wiggling in anticipation. "Now, the other," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Make sure to get every bit of dirt off." Ajay felt his heart sink, but he didn't dare disobey. He took the second sandal and began the degrading task, his mind racing with thoughts of escape and the fear of what she might do if he didn't satisfy her.
With each lick and suck, Tarannum's moans grew louder, her hand stroking his hair with a possessive fondness that sent a shiver down his spine. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You're learning so quickly." Her words were a twisted comfort, the praise making his stomach churn as he realized that she was enjoying his humiliation.
When he had finished with the second sandal, she took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into his face. "Now," she said, her voice a low growl of satisfaction. "Every time you come to my house, this will be how you greet me. Understood?" Ajay nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, the weight of her command like a boulder on his chest. “And before you leave, you will do the same. You will worship your guru’s feet, and only then will you be allowed to go home to your mundane little life."
Tarannum leaned back, her hand reaching down to stroke his cheek with a sandal. "Good boy," she murmured, the affection in her tone as disturbing as the act itself. "Now, before you leave, you will show your devotion one last time." She placed her sandal-covered foot back on his mouth, the leather warm and damp from his saliva. "Worship me," she ordered, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.
Ajay closed his eyes, feeling the sandal press against his mouth and nose, the taste of leather and sweat filling his senses. He had never felt so degraded, so utterly powerless. Yet, a part of him responded to the dominance, the thrill of doing something so wrong and taboo. He took another deep breath and began to kiss her foot, his tongue sliding over the leather, tracing the contours of her toes. She watched him with a dark smile, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
Finally, she removed her foot, and he took a gasp of air, feeling the sticky residue of her desire on his skin. He sat back on his heels, his eyes filling with tears. She petted his head, her hand smoothing his hair like he was a pet. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're learning so well."
The room spun around him as he struggled to stand, his legs wobbly from the ordeal. Ajay felt like he was in a waking nightmare, his mind reeling from the horror of what had just transpired. The smell of her sex lingered on his skin, a constant reminder of his degradation. He looked at her, her naked body sprawled on the bed, and felt a mix of disgust and confusion. How could she do this to him?
Tarannum watched him with a lazy smile, the cigarette still smoldering between her fingers. "You can go now," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. “But you will come when I call for you next time, won’t you?” Ajay nodded, his eyes cast down, unable to meet hers. He felt like a rag doll, used and discarded.
He stumbled out of the room and found his way to the front door and stepped into the cool night air, the shock of it hitting him like a slap across the face. The street lights cast an eerie glow over the neighborhood, the shadows stretching out like fingers reaching for him. Ajay's legs felt like jelly as he began the long walk home, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He tried to make sense of what had just happened, but the reality of it was too much to bear.
Tarannum's eyes never left his, the hunger in them growing with every stroke. "Look at me," she demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Look at me as you fuck me, you little kuttey ka pillu." Ajay's mind rebelled at the words, but his body responded, his hips moving faster, his cock sliding in and out of her with a wet, sloppy sound that filled the room.
Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her sandals digging into his buttocks, guiding his movements, pushing him deeper. Ajay could feel the tension in her body, the way she arched her back and moaned with every thrust. Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of pain that only served to drive him closer to the edge. He didn't know what he was doing, but he could feel the power of it, the way she was using him for her pleasure.
Tarannum's eyes never left his, her pupils dilated with lust. She whispered filthy words in his ear, her breath hot and fast. "Fuck me, madarchod" she urged, her voice a mix of pleasure and pain. "Harder, deeper." Her hips rose to meet his, her muscles tightening around him as she grew closer to climax. The bed was a cacophony of sounds, the slap of skin against skin, the wet squelch of her pussy, and the grunts of their shared effort.
Ajay felt his own orgasm building, his body moving of its own accord, driven by a need he didn't understand. He had never felt anything like this before, the power of her desire overwhelming him. He watched as her face contorted with pleasure, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip to stifle her screams. The room spun around him, the walls closing in as he reached the brink.
With a guttural groan, he felt himself spilling into her, the warmth of his seed filling her. At the same moment, Tarannum's eyes widened, and she let out an ear-piercing scream of pure, unbridled lust. Her legs tightened around his waist, her sandals pressing into his buttocks like twin vices as she pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around his neck like a vice. Her big breasts squeezed between them, adding to the crushing weight of her embrace.
Her kiss was demanding, her tongue invading his mouth as her hips bucked wildly, riding out the waves of her own climax. Ajay's mind was a whirlwind, torn between the horror of what he was doing and the primal instinct to satisfy the woman beneath him. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and dominance that made him feel both terrified and alive.
As their bodies stilled, the reality of what had happened began to seep into Ajay's consciousness. He pulled away, his cock slipping out of her with a wet sound that made him cringe. He looked down at her, her face flushed with pleasure, her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. The room was filled with the scent of sex, and all he could do was stare in disbelief.
Tarannum's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her sandals still digging into the bed. She looked up at him with a smug smile, her eyes glinting with victory. "You see," she purred, "you're not so innocent after all." Ajay felt the weight of her words, the truth in them a slap in the face. He had been used, manipulated, and there was no denying the part his body had played in her sick game.
Her hand reached out to caress his cheek, her touch cold and clammy. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. "Some milk or a shake, perhaps?" Ajay's stomach churned at the thought of food or drink. He couldn't imagine swallowing anything without throwing it back up. He shook his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. "No, I'm fine."
Tarannum's smile was knowing, a smug curve of her lips. She rolled off the bed, her sandals clacking against the floor as she swayed drunkenly. "Suit yourself," she murmured, sauntering out of the room. Ajay took the opportunity to scramble into his clothes, his heart racing as he dressed. The smell of sex clung to him like a second skin, a foul reminder of what had just transpired.
When she returned, she was still naked except for the sandals, the cigarette dangling from her mouth and a half-filled glass of whiskey in her hand. She took a deep drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing like a fiery ember in the dim light.
Tarannum sat beside Ajay, her thigh pressing against his. She took another drag, and with a cruel smile, blew the smoke into his face. "You see, Ajay," she slurred, her voice thick with the sweet scent of alcohol and malice. "Math isn't the only thing I can teach you." Her hand was on his cheek, her thumb tracing lazy circles that made him shiver with revulsion. "I'm going to be your sex guru now, too."
Her eyes gleamed with a dark excitement as she leaned closer, her breath warm and smoky on his skin. "You're going to learn everything there is to know about pleasure," she whispered, her voice a serpent's hiss. "But only when I want it, and how I want it." The power in her words was palpable, the promise of more nights like this one a prison sentence of pleasure and pain.
Ajay felt his stomach churn, the smoke from her cigarette making him lightheaded. He tried to pull away, but her hand tightened on his cheek, her nails digging into his skin. "You're mine now," she murmured, her breath hot and foul. "My little fuck toy, my dog, my property." The vile names rolled off her tongue like sweet nothings, each one stinging like a slap.
Tarannum took another drag and sip of her whiskey, her gaze never leaving Ajay's. "You know," she began, her voice a sultry purr, "in your Hin-du traditions, the teacher is considered a guru, right?" Ajay nodded, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. "And gurus are to be worshipped and obeyed without question, aren't they?"
Ajay swallowed hard, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten. "Y-yes, but-" he began, his voice shaking with confusion.
"But what?" Tarannum's smile grew even more wicked. "You're a good little Hindoo boy, aren't you? You know what you're supposed to do for your guru." Her hand trailed down to his neck, her grip tightening as she pushed him down. "Kneel," she ordered, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "Kneel and worship your new guru,” she said, gesturing to her sandal-covered feet.
Ajay's mind reeled with a mix of horror and submission as Tarannum's hand pushed him down to his knees. The coldness of the floor sent a shiver through his body, and the smell of her sandals, a potent blend of leather and sweat, filled his nostrils. He looked up at her, the haze of fear and confusion in his eyes. She took another sip of whiskey, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic pleasure. "Go on," she urged, her foot nudging his chin. "Show me how much you respect your guru."
With trembling hands, Ajay reached out and took her sandal in his grasp. The leather was smooth and cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his embarrassment. He leaned in, his eyes focusing on the delicate line of her toes peeking out from the strap. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but the fear of what she might do to him if he didn't comply was stronger. He kissed her foot, the taste of her skin bitter and foreign on his lips.
Tarannum's eyes watched him with a mix of amusement and hunger. "That's it," she encouraged, her voice a sultry whisper. "Now lick." Ajay's tongue darted out, tentatively touching the arch of her foot. She let out a small gasp, the sound of it making his stomach turn. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back as he obeyed her command, his tongue tracing the line of her foot, from her heel to her toes.
The leather of the sandal was smooth under his tongue, the taste faintly bitter and unpleasant. But she didn't seem to care about his discomfort, her eyes closed in pleasure as he licked the straps that wrapped around her ankle. She shifted her foot, exposing the soft flesh between her toes. "Closer," she murmured, her hand pushing his head down. He licked the spaces between her toes, feeling her sandal's strap dig into his cheek.
Her toes curled slightly at the contact, and she let out a contented sigh. "That's it," she whispered, her eyes still closed. "Suck on them." Ajay felt his stomach turn, but he obeyed, taking one of her toes into his mouth and sucking gently. She gasped, her foot jerking slightly in his grasp. "Harder," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. He complied, his teeth scraping the soft pad of her toe.
Tarannum leaned back, her hand reaching for the glass of whiskey on the bedside table. She took a sip, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light as she watched him with a twisted smile. "Now the soles," she said, her eyes snapping open. "I want them clean, do you understand?" Ajay nodded, his cheeks flaming with humiliation.
He took a deep breath and placed his tongue against the first sandal's sole, the taste of leather and dust coating his mouth. He worked meticulously, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes as he tried to scrub away the grime. Each pass was a silent plea for this nightmare to end, for her to release him from this twisted ritual. But she didn't relent, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him with a mix of amusement and lust.
When he had finished with one sandal, she held out the other, her toes wiggling in anticipation. "Now, the other," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Make sure to get every bit of dirt off." Ajay felt his heart sink, but he didn't dare disobey. He took the second sandal and began the degrading task, his mind racing with thoughts of escape and the fear of what she might do if he didn't satisfy her.
With each lick and suck, Tarannum's moans grew louder, her hand stroking his hair with a possessive fondness that sent a shiver down his spine. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You're learning so quickly." Her words were a twisted comfort, the praise making his stomach churn as he realized that she was enjoying his humiliation.
When he had finished with the second sandal, she took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into his face. "Now," she said, her voice a low growl of satisfaction. "Every time you come to my house, this will be how you greet me. Understood?" Ajay nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, the weight of her command like a boulder on his chest. “And before you leave, you will do the same. You will worship your guru’s feet, and only then will you be allowed to go home to your mundane little life."
Tarannum leaned back, her hand reaching down to stroke his cheek with a sandal. "Good boy," she murmured, the affection in her tone as disturbing as the act itself. "Now, before you leave, you will show your devotion one last time." She placed her sandal-covered foot back on his mouth, the leather warm and damp from his saliva. "Worship me," she ordered, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine.
Ajay closed his eyes, feeling the sandal press against his mouth and nose, the taste of leather and sweat filling his senses. He had never felt so degraded, so utterly powerless. Yet, a part of him responded to the dominance, the thrill of doing something so wrong and taboo. He took another deep breath and began to kiss her foot, his tongue sliding over the leather, tracing the contours of her toes. She watched him with a dark smile, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
Finally, she removed her foot, and he took a gasp of air, feeling the sticky residue of her desire on his skin. He sat back on his heels, his eyes filling with tears. She petted his head, her hand smoothing his hair like he was a pet. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're learning so well."
The room spun around him as he struggled to stand, his legs wobbly from the ordeal. Ajay felt like he was in a waking nightmare, his mind reeling from the horror of what had just transpired. The smell of her sex lingered on his skin, a constant reminder of his degradation. He looked at her, her naked body sprawled on the bed, and felt a mix of disgust and confusion. How could she do this to him?
Tarannum watched him with a lazy smile, the cigarette still smoldering between her fingers. "You can go now," she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. “But you will come when I call for you next time, won’t you?” Ajay nodded, his eyes cast down, unable to meet hers. He felt like a rag doll, used and discarded.
He stumbled out of the room and found his way to the front door and stepped into the cool night air, the shock of it hitting him like a slap across the face. The street lights cast an eerie glow over the neighborhood, the shadows stretching out like fingers reaching for him. Ajay's legs felt like jelly as he began the long walk home, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. He tried to make sense of what had just happened, but the reality of it was too much to bear.