My Indian Slut Wife Vidya Ch. 06

"Oh, come on, babe." Vidya made a face. "Why would you ask me that, babydoll? I told you not to. OK, now come here. I want you to sit here, darling. Now ... good. Show me your cheek!"

"Yes, dear." I meekly obeyed. I knew what was coming, of course.

SLAP!

It was not some gentle, playful slap. It had been a strong, powerfully struck slap.

"Darling." Vidya slowly rubbed her hand that she had struck me with against her thigh before raising it again. "How many times have I fucking told you ..."

SLAP!

"... that my fucking affairs ..."

SLAP!

"... as you yourself fucking agreed to ..."

SLAP!

"... are my own fucking business?"

SLAP!

"I am sorry, baby." I apologized, even as my cheeks began to sting. "I know I shouldn't ask, but I was just curious."

SLAP!

SLAP!

Vidya slapped me a couple more times even as I apologized meekly. Then she lovingly cupped my cheeks with both of her hands.

"There, there, sweetie." Vidya leaned in proceeded to kiss me. By the time she was done, I was ready to cum. Vidya saw my erect manhood and laughed.

"Not immediately, my little cuckold. First you will kiss my ass and lick my asshole."

"Yes, dear."

That was my life as a husband now. After getting slapped by my wife for daring to ask about her lovers, she made me hard just by kissing me, before ordering me to kiss her ass if I wanted to cum. I had no sense of self-respect.

Another time, after going down on her, I decided to broach the topic again. Basically going down on her was the only way I gave her an orgasm.

"Darling," I asked her tentatively, even as she was still panting from her climax, "Other than Ramu, or Balachandra, is there anyone else you are seeing right now?"

Vidya sadly shook her head.

"My dear husband." She exclaimed. "How many times I have to tell you not to question me on my affairs? Your tiny penis cannot handle neither me, nor the details of my lovers!"

Vidya had made me bend over a chair, and proceed to spank my ass with her hand until she was happy with my apology for asking that question. Only then was I allowed to make love to her. After that thorough spanking, I lasted merely half a minute once I was inside her, much to her amusement.

If you notice, Vidya had now slowly started to punish me physically more often. Slaps had been part of the game before, but now I was increasingly bending over for a spanking. It was -- as she said -- my "natural progression as a cuckold".

Once she started to spank me, I would be going over her knees at least once a week as she would sit on a chair, or I would by lying face down on the bed, my buttocks bare and exposed. Vidya would spank me first with her hand, and then with a ruler. At first I could barely take five swats, but now, much to her satisfaction, I was up to twenty five. If I took them all without squirming, I was allowed to have sex with her as I wished.

Now it was to the point that she would spank me if I did anything to upset her, like ask her about her current lover(s), or forget to take the garbage out. From once a week, I could now expect a spanking any time now, and in fact I got spanked almost on a daily basis.

You might read these events and think Vidya was my female dominatrix and I was her slave. It could not be further from the truth. Yes, Vidya did like to slap me and spank me, BUT I liked being slapped by her and spanked by her, because that gave HER pleasure. And giving HER pleasure gave ME pleasure. And Vidya knew it.

I loved her. She loved me. She loved me strongly -- of that I was now sure. No matter who had his cock buried in her, her true love would be me. Despite spanking me, slapping me and cuckolding me, Vidya did not lose her sense of love and respect for me. She would kiss me all the time, or snuggle up to me, or take care of my house impeccably, and always greet me lovingly.

Vidya also took care of me sexually. In this I was unlike the other cuckolded husbands I would read about. My wife knew that even though I was a cuckold, I also had needs. I was never, EVER, denied sex by her. Whenever I wanted. Even if she was sick or not feeling like it (which was rare!). Often she would initiate it.

She would ask me, suddenly, rubbing me, "My fat cuckold, do you need some relief?"

Often I would nod, or say "Yes, dear, if it's not too much trouble."

I mean, who would say no to Vidya!

She would laugh and always say, "For you, my love, never!"

She would then bend over, and present herself to me.

"Take me, lover." She would grin. "Even though you are a cuckold, you are MY cuckold. So this is your chance, lover boy. Go for it!"

And then she would ask me what I wanted from her and would proceed to do that. So I, too, loved her, even if that love meant I had to share her, physically, with other men, and I was not privy to that information. I was OK with that. At least, that's what I told myself.

This was the state of our relationship, and this last weekend was simply the cherry on top. We were isolated in the cabin, just the two of us, and we focused on just ourselves. I usually could not cum more than once a day, but Vidya made me cum several times. The only time we had clothes on were when we went out to eat, or when housekeeping called. By the time we left, the cabin reeked of sex. And unlike the other times with Vidya, this time it was sex with me. Her husband.

Now, back to the grind, and Monday morning. We were just finishing breakfast.

Suddenly the calm of our usual morning was broken by some loud noises. It seemed like a construction vehicle had just parked, and I could hear hammers, the starting of some electronic machines, and lots of shouting and hollering by men.

"Rajesh! Baby!" Vidya raised an eyebrow. "What a racket! I wonder if they are fixing that road."

I didn't have time to answer, because immediately there was a knock on the door.

"Rajesh, honey." Vidya commanded, while rubbing butter on her toast. "Get the door, please."

"Yes, dear." I told Vidya, rising up. "I will get the door."

It was Wasim.

I looked at the guard. He had a soft smirk on the corner of his lips, but stood there respectfully. The last time he had been here in my presence, he had to grovel and beg for forgiveness from me and Vidya. Then, of course, Ramu and then that gangbang happened. Now, he had a smirk. This smirk said that whenever I was away and Wasim was here, he was in my house banging my wife. Although he hadn't seen Vidya for at least a week, if not more.

"Yes, what is it, Wasim?" I asked.

"Saheb." He said respectfully. "I wanted to inform you that we have to fix the road that goes in front of your house. It will be very noisy for the next few weeks."

"Hmm." I was nonplussed. I would be at work, and Vidya could just put on some earplugs and listen to her music. "Why so many days, Wasim? It's just some potholes."

"Well, it's not just some potholes, Saheb." Wasim nonchalantly glanced a look at my wife before focusing back on me. "The Board has decided to resurface the roads in this community. So your lane will be the first one. It could be three ... or four ... or even five weeks."

"I see."

"We will try to be quiet." Wasim said. "But for next month or so, there will be work. But I will take care of memsaab so that she is not bothered too much by the noise."

Did he misspeak? He would "take care" of my wife? Was it my imagination or was there a slight grin as he said this last statement -- that memsaab wouldn't be too "bothered" with the noise? Was it because it would be because she was "busy" with something else? Or someone? How would he "take care" of her?

"Alright, Wasim. If it has to be done, it has to be done."

I didn't give much more thought to it. After Wasim left, I finished getting ready, kissed Vidya goodbye and headed out to work. I almost didn't want to leave. Vidya looked so good, standing in the doorway in her sari, her hair falling to her hips, her pallu tucked away to one side, her navel glowing in the sunlight. I wanted to take her there and then. But the office was beckoning.

It was a busy morning, as I got caught up, and then attended a series of meetings. I was now promoted to lead project manager, after all. Sometimes (though not often) I would report directly to the owner of the company Mr. Hemant Sarun himself.

Just after lunch hour, I had some time to myself. Alone in my office cabin, I switched on the camera app on my laptop. I was watching my house live. There was no recording stored of the morning, which meant no one had rung the bell and no door in my house had been opened to let anyone in or out. My cameras recorded only when there was movement from any of the entrances to our house. Vidya must have remained at home, sleeping or watching TV. I looked through the cameras to see where she was now.

Vidya was in the kitchen. The screen blurred for a moment and then cleared as the kitchen camera focused on my wife. She was loading the dishwasher.

For some time I watched my wife. God! She was so sexy! I felt lucky to be married to this vixen! She wore a simple sari, but so elegantly did it cover her full, athletic and buxom figure. I was glad Vidya was one of those women who always wore a sari, even if she was alone. Sari was what made an Indian woman so sexy. So desi. I loved her thin sari wrapped itself around her svelte figure, giving prominence to the blouse that hid her gigantic melons, showing her bare, narrow, slender waist and tummy, and then accentuating her big, bubble butt. That ass quivered every time she moved in the kitchen, and for some time I just sat and watched my wife move around, not knowing that there were prying eyes taking in her every move.

I then heard a sudden sound. It was the doorbell! It seemed, by some strange and lucky coincidence, I had switched on to see my house just in time!

I switched the view to the front door. This was the living room camera and I could see the chain on the door rattling as someone knocked on it. In another window on the screen, in the kitchen, I could see that my wife was disturbed by the sound. Yet, something in her appearance, in her mannerisms, in her body language made me believe that she wasn't surprised to hear the doorbell ring. It was almost as if she was expecting it. I followed her on the cameras through the house as she moved to the living room and opened the door.

It was Wasim. Of course it was Wasim! As soon as Vidya opened the door, Wasim pushed the door open and entered the house. My house.

"What's the matter, memsaab?" He barked, leering at her. "For the whole of last two weeks you don't open the door, even though we know you were home, or answer our texts? What's going on, randi?"

Answer our texts. I should check Vidya's phone!

I watched as my wife Vidya stood there, looking crossly at the burly guard.

"I told you last time we can't see each other like this anymore." She said, her arms folded emphatically over her ample chest.

"Memsaab. Memsaab." Wasim pushed his way into the house and equally forcefully closed the door as Vidya backed away slightly. "It's cute, when you say no, but how many times I have told you not to irritate me, Vidya? When your husband's away, you are my little bitch."

"You seem to have gotten a lot more obnoxious lately." Vidya said defiantly. "People can see you come here, you know. I have an image in this society. I told you guys to be discreet, but you guys all come in at once all the time. Especially you."

"Ah, your image." Almost nonchalantly, Wasim reached out and cupped Vidya's breasts with his hands. "Your oh so respectful image, hai na, memsaab? You still think people believe you are a respectable housewife, faithful to her husband, while I am here, playing with your tuttay."

Vidya stood there, not moving, as Wasim continued to paw and squeeze her tits, feeling her up through her blouse. She said nothing as he took a boob between his forefinger and thumb, tweaked up and pinched the nipple.

"Ouch!" Vidya made a disgusted expression and brushed his hands away. "You guys have no finesse! Standing there and trying to milk me as if I am a cow!"

Wasim laughed.

"Isn't that what you like, memsaab? You are a cow. Nay, as I said, you are a bitch. My bitch."

"Go away, Wasim." Vidya said. "I have lot of work today. I can't be bothered with you guys now."

"Ouch." Wasim said, putting his hand on his heart, feigning an injury, "Memsaab. You insult me. Your attitude! Your sharp tongue! Oh, randi! You break my heart!"

"Wasim! I have no time ..."

Whatever Vidya was saying she never finished. Suddenly Wasim moved to her, and in a flash had her in a tight bear hug, his lips on my wife's.

Vidya struggled, but wife was no match for this man with the strength of a bear. I watched, awestruck as the guard continued to kiss my wife. Sirens of panic were going off in my head. This was not the usual affairs of Vidya. He was forcing himself on her. This was rape. I should do something. Maybe I should call home. The ringing of the phone might jar Wasim away.

I reached for my cellphone and was about dial my home number when I saw the scene on the screen change. My wife had stopped struggling and now had her hands around his back. She was no longer being forced into the kiss, but was a willing, even enthusiastic participant. I watched, undeniably turned on, as the kiss continued.

Vidya finally broke the kiss and pushed him away. This time, he let go of her. For a moment no one spoke.

"You should go, Wasim." Vidya finally said, trying to smoothen her hair. "Please."

"It's really hot, memsaab." Wasim replied, exaggerating the 'memsaab' part. "Can I please get a glass of water, Vidya?"

The lecherous grin he directed at my wife while calling her by name wasn't missed by her -- or me.

"OK, sure. Just water." Vidya looked at him with a steely look, and then shrugged. "Come to the kitchen."

Wasim followed her into the kitchen Vidya gave him a glass of water, which Wasim drank in one gulp, and then handed the glass back to my wife. As Vidya turned to place the glass into the sink, Wasim raised his hand, and smacked my wife square on her bum.

WHACK!

The glass fell from her hands into the sink. Luckily it didn't break.

WHACK!

Vidya remained standing there, her back to him, while he continued to spank her buttocks.

WHACK!

"I haven't fucked you for twelve days, memsaab." Wasim said. "I missed this big buttock of yours. Such a nice, spankable buttock."

WHACK!

"Please." Vidya murmured. "Wasim. I told you that it's over."

Wasim stopped playing with her bum. Instead he grabbed my wife by her hips and made her turn around to face him.

"Don't play coy with me, memsaab. It is not over until I say it is over, bitch." His voice was now raised. He was angry. "You should know, this is not Mumbai or Delhi. This is a small suburb of Pune. This is a small gated community. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everything. Especially about you."

I felt the hair stand on my arms. I am sure Vidya felt similarly alarmed, yet she managed to sound surprisingly defiant. What did he mean "especially about you"?

"Yeah, so?" I heard her say. "What do you mean?"

Wasim sighed. Then I saw the big guard raise his hand.

SLAP!

He struck Vidya on her left cheek, hard. I saw a bright red mark spread on her milky white cheek. And then he raise his hand again and swung the other way, slapping my wife again.

SLAP!

"Do you like it memsaab? A high class gori memsaab like you being slapped like a fifty rupee whore, and by a low class worker like me? Do you like it, Vidya?"

Vidya said nothing, but glared at him defiantly, even as her cheeks must have stung. Wasim grinned.

SLAP!

"Vidya, have you wondered why no one has told your husband yet about all of your little affairs?"

SLAP!

I saw my wife gasp, but she did not say anything.

SLAP!

"All those videos on the cellphone we took. Of you sucking our dicks. Of you on all fours, taking it in your gaand. Of you being passed around, from dick to dick."

SLAP!

"Those videos must be all over WhatsApp now, Vidya, but no one has sent anything to people we don't know. And certainly no one has told your husband anything. Why do you think that is, memsaab?"

SLAP!

"We can upload all those videos on the internet, but so far we haven't done so. Do you know why, memsaab?"

SLAP!

Vidya still did not say anything, but continued to glare at him. Her cheeks were now bright red, and must have been burning. Wasim sighed and started to head back to the living room.

"Be a good girl and come with me." He ordered. "Before I have to slap you again, Vidya."

For a moment it seemed as if my wife would disobey him and bolt for it, but she then meekly walked behind him to the living room. She followed him like a meek little slave who had just been punished for her insolence. Her cheeks, as I said, were now flushing red. Whether that was the sting from the guard's slaps, or the embarrassment at having been slapped by him, I don't know.

Wasim was now seated on one of the sofas.

"Sit here, memsaab!" He ordered, slapping his left thigh.

I could see Vidya cringe, but she obeyed him, placing her big posterior on his thick thigh, like a little girl sitting on Santa's lap. Immediately his hands went around her waist.

"I love the way you wear your sari." He said, running his hand over her bare navel. "Leaving your slender waist and tummy exposed, like a proper Indian rakhel."

Vidya sat there on his lap as he grabbed at her tits and groped her. He then put one hand behind her head and pulled my wife's face close to his. I thought he was going to kiss her. But instead Wasim started licking her tender cheek with his thick raspy tongue. He then lowered his lips and bit Vidya's exposed neck.

"Ouch!" Vidya cried out, but otherwise remaining still. Her cheeks were still red.

"Don't worry, memsaab." Wasim grinned. "I won't leave a mark. The redness of your rosy cheeks will go away soon. Your husband will be just as clueless as he is as long as you play nice. THIS is why no one tells your husband, Vidya. It is because in the end you let us have our way with your body. As long as your choot remains open, our mouths remain closed."

They kissed for a while. I could see that Vidya, visibly stiff at the start, was now slowly relaxing. As they kissed, his hands continued to pay homage to her breasts. Soon he had her blouse open, and his hands went inside her bra. He was now directly playing with her udders. I saw him grab one tit and pull it out of the bra, before repeating the action with the other. As they continued to kiss, Wasim was pinching and kneading her nipples, and softly massaging each boob. By the time he withdrew his lips from hers, my wife looked a little flustered. She did not want to, but this type of rough treatment was arousing her, and she was now fully turned on, despite her reservations. She tried to adjust herself as she slipped down on the thigh. I could see a bulge in Wasim's jeans.

"So you like having your boobs hanging out like that, eh?" Wasim grinned. Vidya could not reply, but I saw her blush and look down. She was embarrassed that Wasim had caught that little detail. Wasim had forced his way into her house, kissed her, slapped and punished her, and Vidya was feeling horny because her boobs were out. She was flustered.