My Indian Slut Wife Vidya Ch. 08

There are times last week when I felt hopelessly frustrated and humiliated. I have gone through a lot of stress and also felt worthless and abjectly embarrassed. Although, it was sexually exciting, my experience with Mr. Sarun was bone-chilling and intimidating. And now I was being prepped by my wife for this to be a constant in our life for the next year or so – not just a one time fling. She was going to be my boss's slave for a year. Yet, if I loved her, there was only one thing I could say.

"I want you, my wife, to enjoy life, and get as much pleasure as you can from it. I love you, my darling." I finally told Vidya. "Putting myself in your shoes, I can understand why you are so much into Mr. Sarun."

"Is that my fantasy, or yours?" Vidya giggled. "You want to know why I enjoyed? He made me feel naughty. I knew he was humiliating both of us, but it was an intense mixture of guilt, ecstasy, and primal desire. Desire – yes, that's it. I desired him."

I get to have my cake and eat it too.

Vidya kissed me again, and then stroked my now rapidly hardening cock.

"Does it bother you, dear, that I desire another man's cock, or be touched by another man? Or that I humiliate you like that – you are in the same room I am with my lover as I am getting fucked, and he is insulting you?"

"If I am being honest," I admitted, "And there is no reason for this. But the thought of you sucking another man's cock, sliding his spit-wet cock in your dripping pussy, riding his cock, bending over doggy and looking at me as he enters you, talking dirty to him and complimenting his cock and body, fucking him till you are screaming out in orgasm, and sucking him again till he cums and swallowing his seed while looking at me – it really drives me wild with desire. I don't know why."

"Well, we know." Vidya laughed. "You have a fetish. It's called being a cuckold, darling."

We fucked again. Even as Vidya's words reverberated inside my head.

I want to have my cake and eat it too.

* * *

Days passed. I knew that in two weeks, Mr. Sarun was due to visit India from USA, and this time he would be staying at our place. Fucking MY wife. Despite that knowledge, our life continued with some semblance of normalcy. We laughed. We smiled. We went out to movies. We had sex. We had sex often.

Everything was, on the surface, fine.

Two days before Mr. Sarun was due to arrive, Vidya got a call from him. It was late at night, almost 11 pm. Mr. Sarun spoke to Vidya for a long time over the phone, with Vidya constantly laughing and giggling like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. I was sent to one corner of the room while she talked, so I couldn't even hear her end of the call. After the conversation was over, I was told to go sit on the bed while Vidya went to the washroom. When she was done, my wife came and sat down on the bed.

"Darling, please stand up."

"Yes, dear." I stood up. I was now standing in front of Vidya, who was seating down on the bed.

"Please take off your pants, darling."

"Er ... yes, dear."

I was now naked from the waist down, my pants at my ankles. Vidya spit into her palm, and took hold of my penis. She started to slowly rub me.

"Darling, Mr. Sarun wants you to make a choice." She announced, as she was stroking me.

"What choice?" I nervously responded. I was wary of Mr. Sarun's mind games.

"Well, dear," I could see Vidya biting her lip, even as her fingers rested on my testicles. "Mr. Sarun feels you weren't there to decide when I accepted those preferred shares from him, in return for being Mr. Sarun's kept woman for a year. So he has offered to withdraw that condition – and the shares – but it's your call."

"So, I ... uh..." For a second I was confused. "So you don't have to, uh ... sleep with him... after all?"

"Yes. I mean ... no." Vidya replied, her face betraying absolutely no hint of what she wanted me to do. "I don't have to sleep with him, ever. But we would lose those shares. He did say your job was secure, since I was with him as his whore for that week."

"I see."

I noticed that Vidya was breathing hard, while she tried not to show it. It was clear that she had a special enthusiasm for Mr. Sarun, and was looking forward to him visiting us. But like a good Indian wife, she was leaving all major decisions to me, her husband.

My thinking could also have been clouded by the fact that I was now sporting a hard on as a result of my wife's hands on my penis.

"Honey," I asked her, "Do you want to be his kept woman?"

"You mean his rakhel? His raandi? His bitch?"

"Er ... yes."

I was expecting her to say no, but she surprised me.

"Would you like it if I were?" She asked, with a sly grin.

"Um ... what do you mean, Vidya?"

"Oh darling." Vidya laughed, "Let's not beat around the bush. Look at your tiny dick now. It's rock hard, and not just because I am giving you a slow handjob. Didn't it excite your little peepee that I spent a whole week with your boss's giant dick shoved into my pussy or my gaand? Every time he grabbed my hair and made me go down on him, didn't you get a little woody when you saw your boss's dick stuffed into my mouth? Didn't it excite you to see your wife be a slut? Every time he split apart my gaand with his giant lund, didn't you cum a little?"

"Um ... I guess ..."

Vidya suddenly let go of my penis and stood up. Before I could realize what was happening, I felt the back of her hand strike my cheek.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

My wife nonchalantly slapped me, again and again, until my cheeks were stinging. Then she sat down and continued.

"I want you to remember these slaps, darling. Remember, YOU were the one who initially agreed to Mr. Sarun having a piece of me, your beloved wife. And didn't it arouse you, when you saw how deeply he fucked me, and how well he pleasured me?"

"I suppose so. So you want to continue with him?"

Vidya didn't answer, but once again stood up.

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

I was slapped, again and again, until my wife decided to stop. Then she sat down and continued. My face was now crimson red, and not just because I was blushing at being slapped. My cheeks were stinging. She had slapped me hard.

"We – Mr. Sarun and I – just talked about it." Vidya paused for a while before continuing, "Mr. Sarun said if you want those shares, YOU have to be in agreement before he visits. So only if you tell me that's what you want, then he will come here and make me his rakhel, but we both have to be absolutely sure that this is what you want. He also said once you agree, there's no turning back. He said by the time he was done, I would be ... in his words ... 'begging for his cock in my married pussy' all the time."

"I see."

"And he said he would share me with some of his friends."

"I see."

"Also, understand this, darling," Vidya bit her lip. "It's not just him fucking me. Or spanking me. Or slapping me. Or urinating on me."

"Oh?"

Vidya stopped rubbing my manhood and stood up.

"Darling, I am going to slap you again now. And harder"

"Oh ... I ..."

"Darling," Vidya told me. "Please show me your cheek."

I loved my wife, and I would never disobey her. I slightly turned my face.

SLAP!

Vidya had raised her hand and this time slapped my left cheek quite hard. It was a stinging blow.

"How did that feel, darling?" She asked me.

"Well ... I am not sure." I reflected, even as my cheek started to burn. "You have been slapping me constantly tonight, dear."

"Well, yes." Vidya reflected. "But ... did this slap ... make you feel ashamed?"

"Er ... somewhat." I replied. The truth is, I liked it even though it was humiliating. Vidya didn't fail to notice it as well.

"You are a man ... that too ... an Indian man." She said. "No man should tolerate being slapped by his wife. Yet here I am, slapping you. And I spank you as well."

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

SLAP!

She slapped me again and again and again, and then her hands went down to grab my dick.

"Do you know why I slapped you, my jaanu?" She asked, rubbing me again. "To tell you ... to prepare you ... before you say yes."

"Prepare me?" I was puzzled.

SLAP!

This time the slap was even harder, much faster. I was close to tears.

"Mr. Sarun. He will own me, he will be my absolute master." Vidya explained. "Whatever he says, I will do. If he wants me to slap you, I will slap you. If he wants me to piss on you, I will piss on you. I will be his absolute slave girl when he's here. I will still love you, but I will be his. And you know him – he will try to humiliate you and undermine your manhood the best way he can."

I swallowed.

"I understand." I told her.

"And also you ... you have to do everything he says because you are my husband. If I, the wife, am his slave, so is my husband. If you don't wish to obey his commands, the deal is off."

"I see."

"Think carefully, darling." Vidya leaned in closer until I could feel her sweet smelling breath on my lips. "If you say yes, then in this house, in YOUR house, on YOUR marital bed, your honour will be taken by your boss. I am your honour, your izzat, and what you are agreeing to is my body being at his mercy for the rest of the year, once a month. IF NOT MORE."

"I know, dear."

"So, should I call Mr. Sarun and say you agree, dear husband?"

There was a long pause as I ran the ramifications of my decision in my mind.

I realized THIS was why Vidya had been so nice to me this past couple of weeks. WHY we were having sex so often. WHY she brought up the subject of being a long term cuckold so often.

I want to have my cake and eat it too.

She wanted me to say yes. And me? What did I want?

There is no doubt that my wife is unbelievably beautiful when lost in the throes of multiple orgasm and to see it from a voyeur's viewpoint is every bit as incredible to behold. This is why I was a cuckold.

They say this is why people refer to cuckolding as an intellectual's fantasy, because the husband gets aroused at the idea of watching his wife with another man. The ultimate betrayal. Or shall I call it, pleasure.

And what about Vidya?

The wife knows her delicate situation. She knows the road she is on is quite a perilous one. One wrong step and it could mean the end of her relationship. Her every moan and move can cause both jealousy and pleasure to her husband, who in the equation is just a mere spectator. And that would be enough to set her on fire. Both literally and figuratively. After all, cuckolding combines the dark and delicious mix of both cheating and voyeurism.

I want to have my cake and eat it too.

I made a decision. With Vidya stroking my penis, I nodded.

"Yes, darling." I told her. "Tell him I agree."

"Are you sure? Is this what you want? To make your wife a slave of another man?"

Suddenly I could see the hint of a smile on Vidya's lips. She had the look of a cat that just ate the whipped cream. I knew I had made the only decision I could.

"Yes, dear."

Was it my imagination, or did Vidya seem relieved that I agreed?

My cock was rock hard now. Vidya lied down on the bed on her back, and pulled up her nightie. I could see that she wasn't wearing any panties, and her pussy glistened with moisture. All our talk had made her wet too. Reaching down to her soft inner thigh, I gently stroked her tender leg. At the same time, I bent over and took her right nipple into my mouth, sucking, biting, and pulling it out even further with my teeth. Her nipple hardened into a soft steel bullet, with her involuntary thrusts to push it further into my hot mouth. Her legs parted. A little at first, then wider, and finally wide enough for me to mount her. That was what she wanted. She wanted me to shove my hard cock into her soft wet pussy.

My cock sank into her wet pool of passion. I tried to do as Mr. Sarun had done, and ram what I could as far down her hole. It seemed to make Vidya wild.

"Oh you bastard. You cuckold! You are going to sell my body to your boss. Fuck me, you coward! You wimp! You cuckold!"

If I thought I was fucking her, it wasn't true. She was fucking me. My wife rammed her cunt on my dick, banging right against my pubic hair, over and over again. She was totally caught up in the moment. It had been sometime since I had sex with her like this, and I knew I couldn't hold out for long.

"Ready to come, you fucking wimp?" She asked me. She was taunting me.

"Yes, dear. Can I?"

She slapped me again.

SLAP!

SLAP!

"Do it now!" Vidya commanded. "Fuck me, you prick!"

I shot my cum deep inside her. My penis convulsed and throbbed. Finally, after panting for a while, we both calmed down.

"Oh my darling! Oh my jaan! My love!" Vidya was now sobbing. She was kissing me, and biting my lip hard. "I love you, my dear. I love you. While other men can give me a good fucking, you are the one that makes love to me, my dear. I love you."

"I love you too, my dear." I told her, as our lips pressed against each other.

I was wondering what I had done. My cheeks were still stinging from my wife's slaps.

* * *

The next night, as we lay on the bed, Vidya had an evil grin on her face as we snuggled together. It was our last night together before Mr. Sarun was to show up.

"Darling, soon, tomorrow, after your boss visits, I will feel like a real woman."

"Er ... yes, dear." I was breathing in the heavenly smell of her hair. We kissed softly, my tongue exploring her mouth.

"I can't wait for your boss to come here." Vidya told me, as I planted a smooch on her cheeks. "And take me properly, like a real man."

Her hands went down to my manhood, and her fingers wrapped around my erection.

"I see that you enjoy thinking about me with a real man." She laughed. "Soon it will be a reality again."

"Yes, dear."

Vidya stroked my cock.

"Rajesh, darling, you have such a cute little mini-cock," Vidya told me. "Mr. Sarun has a huge dick. You are like a baby in comparison to him. No wonder I can't feel you sometimes."

I couldn't take those humiliating words any more, and started to cum immediately in her hands, much to Vidya's amusement.

"Good thing," She told me, rubbing the cum onto her nightie. "That you managed to fuck me yesterday. And good thing ... that Mr. Sarun will be doing the job properly for you from tomorrow."

* * *

The next day was the day Mr. Sarun was supposed to visit us, arriving in the evening. Vidya made me clean the whole house and do the cooking.

"I can't do it." She said. "I have to look good for him, and I can't be tired."

"You always look good, darling." I tried to compliment her.

"Aw, you are so sweet dear." Vidya smiled at me, and then slapped me. Over the last couple of days I had been slapped a lot by her, often on the merest pretext.

SLAP!

"Now be a darling and mop the kitchen floor."

"Yes, dear."

Mr. Sarun arrived in the evening. He had rented a brand new BWM from the airport, which he had driven to our place. I was surprised to see Narges with him.

Narges was a maid servant who worked in Mr. Sarun's house in Calcutta. She was an older maid, plump, shapely, with a big chest and an even bigger ass. Her hair had greyed significantly, but it wasn't hard to imagine she had been a pretty woman in her youth. Mr. Sarun had a thing for big boobs and buttocks, and the chubby Narges fulfilled that demand. Her husband Fateh also worked for Mr. Sarun.

My mind recalled the week we had spent in Mr. Sarun's house, and how one morning, after breakfast, Mr. Sarun had ordered Narges to pull up her sari and expose herself to us. I remembered seeing the half a dozen red streaks – the marks of a caning – visible to everyone in the room, including her husband.

Mr. Sarun would similarly strip Vidya naked in front of the rest of the household. My boss loved his power and by stripping my wife (or another man's wife) of her clothes and her dignity in front of everyone, including her husband, he was showing us our place. Narges was another married lady whom Mr. Sarun fucked and spanked on a regular basis.

Vidya had also told me of the one time she had been slapped by Narges, on Mr. Sarun's command. And of course, I remembered the dinner when Narges had led my wife, by the ear, like a naughty school girl, to the edge of the dinner table. Narges had continued to twist and pull my dear wife's ear before letting her stand at the table. That was when Mr. Sarun had disrobed Vidya, made her bend over, and then furiously caned her on her behind, right there, in front of all the servants, before fucking her in the buttocks.

Vidya had told me that Narges would slap her many times, and would always say one thing to her all the time my wife was in that house.

"We may all be Sarun's slaves, but you are also my bitch. Remember that, Vidya."

And this same Narges was now going to stay at our place for a week.

"Rajesh, you are my favorite employee." My boss told me as he barged into my house. "Now go and get our luggage from the car, please. I parked my car on your driveway. Great car, this BMW!"

"Yes, Sir. At once, Sir."

Not only was he going to fuck my wife, but he was going to make me his servant as well.

I went to the car, and picked up two suitcases (one for Mr. Sarun, one for Narges) and brought them inside the house. Vidya was just descending down the stair case into the living room. Despite the difficult situation my cock became erect by just looking at the goddess that she was.

Vidya was a naturally athletic but voluptuous lady, and she was wearing a pink sari that was wrapped so tightly around her body that all her curves were on display. Her petticoat ended just below her navel, with her waist exposed, and her blouse was a small noodle strap bra type blouse, struggling to contain her bursting mammary glands. The thin chiffon sari's pallu was draped to the side of her body and across her shoulder. On her neck was her mangalsutra (a religious necklace) that every married Hindu Indian lady wore, and she had sindoor (vermillion that also only married Hindu ladies wore) on her forehead. As she walked past me, I could see that the back of her sari clung to her buttocks, and the contour of her behind was apparent with every step she took. Her boobs and her ass cheeks jiggled as she sauntered across the room.

Even as my dick throbbed, I realized that this was all for my boss, not me. He was about to bang my wife and have her at his mercy for the next week or so. I was going to be a cuckold once again, and I had brought this on myself.

"Vidya!" Mr. Sarun rushed and wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. "Mrs. Vidya Mathur! Oh, how I missed your beautiful little body, you raandi! You whore! Ever eager to please!"

His hand was massaging her breast through her think blouse, right in front of my eyes in our living room. His other hand was groping her butt while his mouth was firmly pressed on hers.

"Yes, Sirjee." Vidya gasped for air, when finally Mr. Sarun let her go. "Ooooooh! Sirjee! What a kiss!"

She continued to yelp as my boss groped and molested her. Finally he let her go.

"Welcome to our house, Sirjee." Vidya took a deep breath and composed herself. "I am sure you will enjoy yourself in the next week."

She had a smile as she said that last part. My wife then turned to Narges.