Indian Social Worker and the Bully Ch. 03

This point was really driven home to me, not in a couple of days but a couple of weeks that I got away from Lallan.

Almost two weeks later, I was standing in the driveway of the Hyatt in Ahmedabad, clutching my small travel bag and purse, and looking towards the road. I was nervous and my heart was pounding. A loud internal voice kept berating me for being there, but I kept trying to ignore it.

"You sure you don't want me to call you a taxi, madam?" the doorman wandered over and asked again.

"Yes I am sure. I am just waiting for someone like I said." I was dressed in a black formal skirt suit with a blue blouse underneath, looking very much like any business traveler at the Hyatt.

I had downed a couple of stiff whiskeys at the hotel bar before stepping out at the designated time. I was feeling just a mild buzz, but it had been necessary to calm my nerves. Even after all that I had done with Lallan over the last few months, tonight was risk-taking at a whole different level.

"Are you staying here, madam or just here for the conference?" he asked again. It was close to midnight, and there weren't too many people around, so I guess he was just making polite chit-chat.

"Conference." I said.

"Which one? The Medical one or the Banking one?" he asked.

"Medical." I said, wishing he would go away.

"So you are a doctor, huh?" he asked and I nodded. "I hope my daughter grows up to become a doctor. She is does very well at school."

"That's nice."

"In fact she says..." he started talking when there was a loud whistle from the road at the end of the driveway.

We both looked in that direction, and I saw Lallan standing there waving at me. He had the top two buttons of his shirt open and was sporting a thick beard. The doorman looked at him and then at me as I pulled the purse over my shoulder and started walking.

"That's my driver." I nonchalantly said, in case the doorman was wondering why a high class woman in a formal skirt suit was walking towards a visibly lower class man.

"Oh ok." he nodded, but he had a look of suspicion on his face. Lallan looked too scruffy to be a driver for someone like me.

I sprinted a little down the driveway and towards Lallan. I held out my bag towards him and he just stared at it.

"What am I, your coolie, you cunt?" he said in a low voice.

"The doorman is watching. I told him you're my driver." I whispered.

He looked at the doorman and then reluctantly took the bag. Then he turned around and started walking. I followed him.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The truck is parked just down the road." he said. "I didn't know if they would let a truck pull into the front entrance of your precious five star hotel."

"Truck???" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, truck, you stupid bitch. Have you forgotten what I work as?" he growled.

"But on the phone you said..."

"I know what I said. Change of plans." he said, handed the bag back to me, and started walking faster.

With the heels, it took some effort to keep up. But I managed.

"So your thing is done...what did you say...conference? What is that?" he asked.

"It's just an event where people in the same line of work meet and discuss ideas."

"Hmmm...sounds like a rich people thing. Is that why you are dressed like an English memsaab?" he said, eyeing my clothes.

"Yes."

"I have riped a lot of clothes off your body, but never this. It will be a nice change." he said and started laughing.

Finally we turned around the corner and sure enough, there was a truck waiting there. It was one of those old trucks, with an orange chassis and rickety back carriage covered in tarp. I saw a middle aged man sitting behind the wheel, who nodded at Lallan, and then looked intently at me.

"Lallan!" I said in a worried voice ad he jumped up to the passenger side and opened the door.

"Climb in." he said, giving me his hand.

"But...I...you said we would be in a lodge..."

"Like I said, change of plans. I want you to meet my friends. Climb in." he said again.

"Lallan...I'm not sure I want to do this." I said with some urgency in my voice.

Lallan nodded and climbed down. My heart started beating a little faster. He had that stern look on his face.

"Memsaab." he said with fake syrupy sweetness. "Are you saying you are worried getting into a truck in the middle of the night in Ahmedabad?"

I didn't say anything, because I knew it wasn't a genuine question.

"Would you like to just go back to the hotel and spend the night there alone? Please, by all means, do that."

I looked down at my feet, knowing better than to argue or talk back.

"Of course, we made this detour to Ahmedabad for you. So if you chicken out now, I am going to have to take this nice expensive suit of yours as compensation. You can walk back to the hotel, naked, in the middle of the night."

I sighed, knowing as I always had, that resistance was futile. And his threat wasn't empty. I took my heels off, hung them against my purse, and climbed on the ramp holding his hand.

Lallan grabbed my ass over my skirt as he pushed me into the truck cabin. He muttered he'd missed that.

That dimly lit cabin was like a whole different world of its own. I realized that although I had seen millions of such trucks throughout my life, I had never peeked inside one of them, much less sit in one.

"This is Munaf Bhai. He owns and drives the truck, so he is my boss I guess." Lallan pushed me on a barely cushioned seat and said.

I just nodded at the middle aged chubby man staring at me intently. He nodded back. And then he said,

"You look nice with clothes on too."

Laughter filled the small cabin. I instantly went deep red and looked away. He had said it in such a flat matter-of-fact way, like he was complimenting my shoes or something. The comment implied that he was one of the guys Lallan had shared the pictures and maybe even the videos with. Lallan was laughing hard, slapping my knee in amusement instead of his own. Munaf was chuckling. And I heard laughter coming from behind me too.

So I looked back. There was a young burly man of about 20, sitting on a bench behind us, laughing it up. In the dim light, I could not make out his face very clearly.

"This is Tony. The other driver." Lallan said. Tony kept laughing and then he squirmed a little.

I heard a soft cough, but it wasn't from either of the three men.

"Oh...and that down there is Kanta."

I leaned over the back of the seat and was shocked to see a stocky young woman, buck naked, squatting on the floor and sucking Tony's dick. With the dick still in her mouth, she turned her wide-open eyes towards me. We stared into each others eyes for a few seconds, two women, strangers to each other, finding ourselves in this dingy truck cabin.

I looked away as the truck started moving. The men finally stopped laughing, although there was still the occasional chuckle. I felt Lallan's hands on my chest and he squeezed my boobs.

"We were just wondering who has bigger tits, you or Kanta. From the pictures, it seems like you. But Tony insists it's her." he said casually.

"Lallan." I whispered. "Kanta...is she...who is...I mean is she here..."

"What?" he asked, stroking my ass over my skirt with his other hand.

"Is she here of her own will?" I asked. The counselor psychologist in me was wondering if this woman had been forced or kidnapped or something. She did seem to be sucking the dick intently, but the look in her eyes wasn't exactly one of joy.

"As much as you are here of your own will." Lallan said and snickered.

I stared at him trying to figure out what exactly that meant. I knew how I had ended up here. What was her story? Suddenly, the lights were turned off and the cabin went dark. Only the street light filtered in.

"Lallan...there are usually cops on this road." Munaf said in a tense voice.

"Oh right!" Lallan said.

And I suddenly felt his hand on my head and my body was pushed away from him and low, until it was leaving against Munaf's side.

"You understand, memsaab." Lallan said. "If cops see a woman in a truck like this, obviously they are going to stop us and ask why. So you need to stay down. That's why we have Kanta in the back and down on the floor."

Munaf's shirt reeked of body odor. I tried to breathe through my mouth.

"Don't worry, we will be stopping soon, memsaab. Until then, remember, this is Munaf bhai's truck. He is our host. While you're down there, why don't you follow Kanta's lead and thank him for his hospitality and the very nice compliment he paid you."

I saw Munaf take one hand off the wheel and unzip his pants. An erect thick dick poked out. It was clear what was expected of me but I still looked back at Lallan with a pleading expression. He just smiled and then his hand started pulling my skirt up. Tony leaned forward as my upper thighs and panties were revealed.

"Oh man...look at that ass!"

Lallan raised his left hand high and landed a stinging hard spank on my butt over my panties. I squealed.

"Suck his dick, memsaab."

I winced and looked at the erect dick in front of me and slid a bit forward. There was no point in arguing or fighting back. This was the situation I found myself in. All alone, in a truck with three horny working class men and a naked woman. I was a long way away from home, from my husband, my social circle. And the night did not look like it was going to get any less humiliating.

Opening my mouth wide, I reminded myself, that this one was not entirely or even partly on Lallan. Me finding myself here in this situation, was all my fault. And I thought about all the impulsive stupid decisions and lies that had ended up with me sideways on a truck seat, about to give a blowjob to a stranger.

--

I had done my best to follow Nita's advice to take the two weeks without Lallan as an opportunity to think things through and also reconnect with Anup. It worked, as much as it could.

Anup is a loving, caring, and insightful man who knows me better than anyone else. From the moment he had landed and come home, he could sense something was off. He didn't know what exactly it was. But he could sense something was wrong. He had asked me, first subtly and then directly, what was going on. I had tried my best to wave off his concerns, saying it was nothing. or that I was just nervous about leaving my old life behind and starting a new one in a new country. or that I was intimidated about the quality of fellow students and professors at Stanford. He would nod, but I could see he was not entirely convinced.

Thankfully, his work kept him super busy. Returning for a short stint meant a lot of meetings and presentations with the offshore team in the office. So it wasn't like he was home all day. We went out for dinners, drinks, met our friends and family, and had sex with increasing regularity. Lallan had been mercifully less intense with his beatings and plus Anup usually liked turning the lights off during sex. So there were no visual clues for him about what I had been through.

The Lallan-less days ticked on, one by one. It almost seemed like a return to our old life. With one change. We were now having sex every night, often two or three times a night. It felt very comforting and reassuring, but there was still a lot of chaos and self-doubt in my mind.

One evening, I was at home, watching some brainless Hindi comedy movie, when Anup walked in.

"Hi honey, I'm home." he said.

"Oh hey!" I got up and smiled at my loving perfect husband. "Would you like me to join me for some whiskey-soda?"

He saw the glass in my hand, gave me half a smile and nodded. He took his shoes off, put his bag in the bedroom and joined me on the couch. I handed him his glass. He looked at the bottle that was on the table and close to half empty.

"Thanks." he said.

I leaned in and kissed him passionately. He kissed me back. We made out for a few seconds and then I sat back.

"How was your day at work?" I asked.

"Not bad. Not bad." he said casually. "Looks like you started early today."

He pointed towards the bottle.

"Oh just a couple of hours ago." I shrugged and smiled. "To get nice and liquored for my hunk."

We kissed again. I unbuttoned his shirt partly and rubbed his chest. He put his arm around me.

"That bottle was full when I left." he said.

I froze and then sat up. And stare at him.

"What are you saying, Anup?"

"Nothing." he got defensive. Then he frowned. "Okay...don't get upset Shikha...but you have been drinking a lot these past few weeks."

"Since when do you have a problem with your wife drinking? Are you like one of those men who..." I said, miffed.

"Oh come on!" he interrupted me. "You know I don't mean it like that."

"Then how do you mean it?"

"Honey, you know I like my drink and I like sharing drinks with you. We have explored so many different brands and liquors together over the years." he said.

"So what's your problem?" I said angrily. Even then, the rational analyst part of me was saying, you know he has a point, and you are being extra defensive.

"You're drunk almost every night when I get home, Shikha!" he said, raising his voice a little. "Not just one or two drinks. you are at least 4-5 drinks down. Every night. When we go out with friends, you down your drinks so fast, no one else can keep up. You're slurring every night. That's not you!"

"Well, I'm not the one who puked all over the Bedis' couch and then passed out in front of everyone!" I said, and immediately felt bad for bringing it up.

I could see he was annoyed.

"Shikha, that was five years ago. I got carried away. Drank too much. Puked, made a fool of myself. I am still ashamed of it. And since then, I have never come close to repeating anything like that." he said.

"I know. I'm sorry." I said.

"Sorry if I'm out of line, Shikha. But...this is unusual. Remember we used to talk about how all that huge collection can't be finished by the time we leave. I come back and find most of the bottles I collected are gone. And you have bought a bunch of new ones. It's like you have been downing an entire bottle a day. You're drunk every night."

"Not too drunk for you to fuck every night!" I said, again regretting it as soon as I said it.

He looked really hurt and confused at that statement. And just looked away. I could see his eyes get a little moist. I felt horrible. Maybe he needed a little reassurance.

"Okay fine. Maybe I have been over-indulging a bit. A lot. More than ever before. But come on, Anup, I am on my first ever break in years. I quit my job. I am moving to a new country. I am..."

"Yes, you are nervous about the PhD, the life there...I have heard all that before."

"Don't fucking cut me off and condescend to me!" I snapped.

He was taken aback. I was not one to display flashes of temper.

"Sorry." he said, sulking, and sat back.

I also sat back, wondering what to say next. In all honesty, I knew he was right. I was drinking too much. I was not myself. He knew me better than anyone. He could tell. I could be honest with him. He would be angry, but would understand. Maybe he would help me deal with everything.

Call it fate's cruel sense of humor, but that was the exact moment my phone started ringing. I recognized the number, although I had never saved it. It was my second husband. Calling just as I was in the middle of a raw argument with my first husband. Lallan had not called since that night of his daughter's birthday party. He had left for his long haul trip the very next day. This was the first time since then that he was calling.

"Sorry sweetie, I have to take this. Work stuff." I said, getting up.

"Ok." he nodded, looking at the TV, still sulking.

I walked to the bedroom, closed the door and locked it. And then answered the phone.

"What took you so long, cunt?" Lallan's voice boomed through.

"Sorry, I was busy." I said.

"Getting fucked, no doubt."

"No." I said.

"If I was there right now, I would be fucking you hard hard hard, you slut. But I am here in Baroda instead." he sounded a little drunk.

"Oh ok."

"Whores don't have your body or your stamina, you know, memsaab?" I always found it weird how he kept alternating between cunt, slut, and memsaab. Maybe the mentions of memsaab were necessary to fed his ego and remind him that he had a high class wife as his bitch.

"I see."

"Does your husband make you wail during orgasms the way I do?"

I usually just ignored his questions about my husband. And he usually didn't push me too much. But this time, I surprised myself by answering,

"No, he doesn't."

"I knew it! No one can satisfy you like I can!"

I cringed and felt like crying. It was true. I was not his victim. I was his mistress.

"I wish I wasn't here in Baroda tonight. I really want you tonight. I can't wait to be back. I will be back in 4 days. And then bang you like the bitch you are, memsaab. How is Delhi?"

This is when I made that impulsive and stupid mistake. I say it was a mistake. And I can justify it saying I was drunk and angry at my husband. But I knew there was something deeper at play. Even after having sex with Anup every night since Lallan left, and liking that sex as it happened, I said what I said next. A complete lie.

"I am...not in Delhi." I said.

And then I rushed to my computer in the bedroom and opened up a travel booking site.

"Where are you then?"

I typed a couple of things. It took a few seconds to get the results.

"Hey cunt, I asked you something!"

"Sorry...I am in Ahmedabad." I said. "For a work conference."

There was silence on the line for a few seconds.

"Ahmedabad?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes." I said.

"Is your husband with you?"

"No." I said, hating myself for this elaborate and needy stunt.

He was silent for a while and I could hear some muffled conversations in the background. Finally he spoke,

"Listen, cunt. I am just a couple of hours away. We were going to drive to Indore next, but if you're in Ahmedabad, I need to come there." he said.

"But Lallan...I am not sure if..." I had become such an accomplished liar that I knew that I needed to put up at least a pretense of reluctance.

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Don't forget who you're talking to."

"Sorry."

"Where is this conference thing in Ahmedabad?"

"Oh...umm...the Hyatt." I had no idea if there even was a Hyatt in Ahmedabad. But it seemed like a safe enough bet.

"Okay. One second."

There were a few muffled conversations again. And then he was back on the line.

"So...here's what is going to happen. I will be coming to Ahmedabad. I will take you to a lodge or something and we will spend the night together. And make up for these past two weeks. Be outside the Hyatt at 1130."

"Lallan please...what you are asking is so..."

"Cunt, don't you know by now what I can do to you? Just because I have been nice to you recently, you think you can raise your voice to me?"

"Okay...okay...sorry." I said.

"1130. Outside the Hyatt. Got it?"

"Yes."

He hung up.

As the conversation had been happening, I had been booking an air ticket online simultaneously. Done with that, I tok a deep breath, felt another bout of guilt and self-loathing, and walked out.

Anup was sitting on the couch watching TV. He looked at me.

"Sorry Anup...I have to fly to Ahmedabad immediately."

"What? Why?" he was surprised.

"It's about one of the cases I was counseling last year. It has a crucial court hearing early tomorrow in Ahmedabad." I said, hoping I sounded believable.

"What's wrong? Why do you have to go?" he got up, sounding worried.

"Honey, you know I can't discuss my cases with you. Confidentiality clauses." I said, walking back into the bedroom and pulling out a travel bag.

He followed me, saying,