Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 12

I gently placed my erection against the soft, smooth skin of her bum. Then I tapped my hardness against her buttocks. I couldn't control it any more. Oh, Rashida! Oh, my love! Oh, my bua!

My testicles tightened, and my dick spurted, before spewing out abundant amounts of hot sperm onto her tender butt cheeks. Oh, I sprayed that cum everywhere! On her buttocks, on her legs, on her back. It was almost like I was marking her, like a cat marks its territory by urinating on the borders. My white cum, glowing in the dim night light, made a good contrast against the skin of her back.

I gently caressed her buttocks, rubbing my semen like a lotion onto her ass cheeks, even as Rashida continued to sleep. And then I once again laid down next to her, and covered both of us with the blanket. I didn't dare to kiss her, as that would awaken her, but I touched a finger to my lips, and then softly touched her lips. My love continued to sleep, even as I lay back, tired from cumming, again.

There was one thing that Rashida didn't know, that I now knew. A dark secret that I could never tell her, yet one that pointed at destiny between us.

Rashida, you are going to be mine. You just don't know it yet. I know why your terrible secret now. And I know something else.

My maid servant could not bear kids because of an accident. What had she said?

Once, in my early days in the city, I was crossing the street. I didn't look -- and there was a car coming. Before I knew it, it had hit me, and I was flying through the air. Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. And do you know what, it was your father who had brought me to the hospital. Your father was driving right behind the car that hit me ...

Yet there was something she didn't know. The dark family secret.

You see, my bua, my love ... my father WAS NOT driving behind the car that hit you. My father's car WAS THE CAR that hit you.

Yes, it was my father ... and my family ... that is responsible for your accident, Rashida, and your inability to bear a child. When you were hit, they quickly got out of the car, and my father made up the story about the other driver fleeing the scene, and then took you to the hospital. You were knocked unconscious, so you didn't realize what had happened, Rashida.

How do I know? Because a couple of years ago, in preparation for taking on more duties in the family business, I was doing a study of the finances and the various accounts we had, and I had noticed a huge series of payments from our business account many years ago. Going back to the year when you were hired, Rashida.

At that time I hadn't connected all the dots, and I didn't knew about your accident's unfortunate side effect. When I had asked my father, all he had said was he was involved in some accident long ago, and these were payments to the hospital, and to some police officers investigating the case, and to some other figures to cover up the accident. Bribes are common for a man of his status, so I had not thought much about it.

Don't talk to anyone about this, my father had warned. No one needs to know about this, especially the maids and the help -- you know how they love to gossip.

Now, it was quite clear WHICH accident he had been covering up.

I glanced at my beautiful fat maid servant again, as she slept on, blissfully unaware of my thoughts.

My dear Rashida. It is DESTINY. You cannot get married because of what my father did to you. And you could not punish my family, but destiny made me YOUR slave. Made me yours. And hence, via this same destiny, you are going to by MINE.

It is destiny that I AM YOUR SLAVE, simply because of what my family had done to you. I am paying for their deeds. And I don't mind. I am yours. I want you to be mine.

AND YOU WILL BE MINE.

I love you, Rashida.