The Rickshaw Driver's Wife Ch. 04

My marriage was fixed with Fateh. My father had four daughters, and Fateh seemed to be a good prospect. He had his own rickshaw, which he drove. He had his own house that he owned. And to top it all off, he didn't want that much in dowry.

"But father," I had tried to argue, "He is 15 years older than me!"

"So?" My dad had argued back. "I am twenty years older than your mother!"

And so, I was married to Fateh. Not that I had too much choice, but I was willing to give it a go. After all, he seemed like a decent man, and he was going to provide for me, so I didn't need to work.

It only took a few weeks to find out Fateh had lied about pretty much everything.

He wasn't fifteen years my senior; he was twenty. Right now, I was thirty-two, and he was fifty-two. When we had married, I was 23, and he was 43, though he claimed to be 38. While Fateh did own his rickshaw and house, both had heavy liens on it. In fact, he was deeply in debt. He had a huge gambling problem, and every time he tried to wipe it off with more gambling, thinking he would win. And he would lose.

He then borrowed from a money lender called Wasim, and paid off the others, but the interest was crippling. He now owed 200,000 rupees to this man, a local mobster, and there was no way he was going to get this type of money. At least I think it was 200,000. Could have been 2,000,000... I might be missing a zero somewhere. I was never that good at numbers.

A couple of days ago, I had run into Wasim, the money lender. I was shopping for vegetables in the marketplace in the afternoon, when suddenly I felt a hand on my bum. My ass.

"Well, if it isn't the beautiful Narges, the young wife of the loser gambler Fateh." Wasim sneered, as his hands brazenly groped my buttocks.

"W-w-wasim B-b-bhai!" I mumbled. I could do nothing. I just stood there, as this man squeezed and caressed my bottom in front of everyone.

No one would do anything. It was a small village, and everyone knew who Wasim Bhai was. He owned the local pub, behind which was the gambling den. He was a local gunda (gangster), and no one wanted to cross his path. Besides, he had a couple of his minions with him. Wasim Bhai was fondling me openly, publicly, and everyone just watched. I was so ashamed, I was blushing red with embarrassment, and yet I could do nothing.

"Your husband now owes me a lot of money." He said, as his hand went deep into the crack of my ass. "When is the loser planning to pay me back?"

"Soon, Wasim bhai." I managed to croak. "He is working day and night to get the money. Just give us some more time, please."

"I have been generous enough. I have already given him a year." Wasim said. He patted my rump, and then his hands went to my waist. I was wearing a sari, so my waist and tummy was exposed, as always. As the vegetable vendors watched, Wasim put a finger in my navel.

"You have a beautiful body, Narges." Wasim taunted me, stroking my tummy. "It would be a shame if your husband had to settle his debts using you as the payment."

"Please, Wasim bhai." I begged. "I am a respected married woman."

Wasim snorted and then laughed. His hands went upwards, and in full view of everyone nearby, he squeezed my left boob, and then my right boob. A tear rolled down my right cheek, but Wasim didn't care.

"I have given him a year," Wasim repeated, as he continued to play with my big breasts in full view of everyone. "But soon I will need the first interest payment. And he has to tell me HOW he is going to pay the whole loan back."

"Please give us some time, Wasim bhai." I pleaded. Wasim placed a hand on the button of my blouse, as if to unbutton it, but then he laughed.

"Two months, Narges." He said, suddenly letting go of my tits, and then smacking me on my ass.

SMACK!

My face blushed a bright red as I was smacked loudly on my bottom in so public a fashion.

SMACK!

"Two months, Narges." Wasim repeated, as he pinched my buttocks. "If it's not paid, I will come to your house, and YOU will be the first installment."

SMACK!

I had just been publicly molested, embarrassed, and humiliated, and all because of my husband! After Wasim left, I still had to continue my shopping. None of the shop keepers spoke much to me, and all of them averted their eyes as they dealt with me. I also couldn't speak much! I was now a marked - and fallen - woman.

Afterwards, later that night, I told my useless husband about the incident. I told him how I was felt up and assaulted in public, and how I was helpless to act as this man touched and pinched my ass, caressed my waist, and squeezed my boobs, and spanked my ass. In public, in front of everyone. All my husband could do was beg for forgiveness and mumble about how he was saving money and would soon pay it off.

"Can you pay the interest in two months?" I asked him.

My husband looked away. Our situation was dire. That is also when I realized that he had given himself to the idea that I would be the payment for his loan. In his mind, he had already accepted the fact that Wasim would be using me, and my body, as the payment.

I knew how it would work. There were two options. First, Wasim could just tell the police about the loan. He owned the local police anyways. That would mean Fateh would go to jail. After that, I would have to fend for myself. In all likelihood, Wasim's men would kidnap me, and I would be raped ravished every night, as a lesson for other defaulters.

The second option was for Fateh to come to some arrangement with Wasim. Again, my body was going to be the payment.

Next to Wasim's pub and gambling den were two five floor apartment buildings. Each apartment inside had a couple of bedrooms. And in each bedroom was a girl.

A whore. A hooker.

That area was known as the red-light district area. People - men - from surrounding villages would throng that area. Mostly truck drivers, day labourers, and sometimes young men from nearby schools. Most of the women who worked there were also day labourers or girls from poor families, now destined for a life as a prostitute. Yet, the top floor of each of these buildings was special.

Inside were women whose father or husband or brother had defaulted on loans to Wasim. These were special women, and the rate was higher. After all, fucking a married woman was much more expensive. I knew that in a year, which could be my fate - working as a lowly hooker - a married woman - to pay off my husband's debts. My destiny. Who would save me?

And that is when, that very week, just a couple of days later, destiny threw Sarun into my lap. Literally and figuratively. Now you know why I jumped at the chance destiny had tossed my way.

I knew Sarun's parents had done well for themselves back in the USA. Even in India, they still owned a share of their family business. In USA, they had started a new business, and it was doing very well. This I knew because at the time of my marriage, Sarun's mother had sent some very expensive gifts for me. She was no longer my employer, she was in another country, and yet she did that for me - a former maid servant who had worked for her. I had the chance to speak with Sarun's mother on the phone for a little while during my wedding, and she made dua for me, and gave me some encouraging words - and she told me her family would always be there for me.

Thus, as soon as I saw Sarun on my doorstep, surprised as I was, I made a quick decision.

I wanted Sarun to help me out, to bail us out, and in return I would do anything for him.

Anything.

I knew that growing up, Sarun had a crush on me. A man does not lick his maid servant's asshole if he doesn't fancy her. And even though I had given him a blow job, I had always denied him the ultimate pleasure.

Now, I didn't know what his plans were. Was he married? Would he... still want to... fuck me? A lower-class woman, a former maid servant, and now wife of a rickshaw driver? Did he just want me to see me, give me some gifts and be on his way? No... I decided I would have to seduce him. And if he wanted to cum in me, hell ya... I would let him. Unprotected. No point in saving myself for anyone now.

It worked. That very first night, I managed to seduce him into bed. I didn't need to do much, to be honest, he was horny enough, but I coaxed him into staying with us, and then into fucking me at night even as my inept husband was present just in the next room.

If you remember what Sarun wrote... this is his words...

"You look beautiful," I told her, and moved forward and kissed her on her lips. I waited for a resounding slap, but it didn't come, so I kissed her again and stepped back.

"Thank you," Narges beamed. "You look great too. You have grown tall, kept in shape, and are now a handsome young man!"

You see what I, Narges, was up to. Before, when I used to work as a maid at their house, every time that Sarun used to take a chance and kiss me on my lips or cheeks, I would slap him. And make him kiss my butt. Now, I was opening myself to him. He was going to plant his flag, so as to speak, on the forbidden territory. I was going to do anything for him.

And I didn't even have to lie as to how handsome he had become. Gone was the skinny, scrawny lad. He was now well built, tall and muscular. And oh, how he could fuck! He must have had a good American girlfriend or two to teach him sex... oh, how well he fucked me!

He always had a big dick. I would so many times fantasize about his dick when my own pathetic husband was fucking me with his small penis. I remember that when I used to suck Sarun off as a 19 and 20-year-old, I would struggle to take him in completely in my mouth. But now, this Sarun - he knew how to use his big dick - and use it well!

He didn't just start plunging into me and fucking me. Given his size, even that would have been good, but no... Sarun took his time. Expertly.

First, he played with my breasts, squeezing, and caressing until I was moaning passionately. He kissed me all over, licking my face, eyes, lips, nose, and nibbling on my earlobes and biting my neck. I was already a helpless wet mess when he unclipped my bra completely and freed my heavy breasts, and continued to pinch, bite and suck on them.

That is when he took charge. This was the moment I knew I was forever going to be Sarun's slave. Previously, it had always been I who was in charge. From now on, it was going to be different.

He made me stand up and bend over, and then completely stripped me naked, removing my petticoat, blouse, and panties. As I stood in front of him, naked and vulnerable, he hugged me, pushing his hardness against my wet vagina, and squeezing my ass.

If you have read Sarun's first chapter, you know what he did next, and how he took me.

My former maid laid down on the bed on her back as I began licking her hairy pussy, making her shiver and tremble as she experienced her cunt being expertly sucked for the first time in many, many years. Her eyes were closed and she was purring as I squeezed her breasts. Narges arched her back to allow me easier access to pull and twist her nipples, making her wince with pleasure.

I pulled her thighs apart and positioned the thick bulbous head of my cock over her labia. I put the tip of my penis into her, then slowly pressed in a few inches, pulled out then pushed back in a bit further, pulled out again before finally penetrating her fully in one push up to my balls, causing Narges to gasp as the air was pumped out of her body, stretching her cunt fully.

To be honest, I don't remember much. Sarun might be angry that I am reusing his words, but I couldn't really recount. All I knew was that I was lost in my ecstasy, as he fucked me, again and again, that night.

Every time, all I could utter was a helpless mumble.

"Wow." I would repeatedly say, and it was the truth. "Oh Sarun! Now that's what I call a fucking. My husband never fucks me like that. You know how to satisfy a woman. If I knew you fucked like that, I would have let you fuck me a long time ago."

Sarun, of course, did not use protection. He was cumming in my unprotected womb, and I let him. I didn't care. I don't remember when he exactly proposed to me, but sometime, as he was fucking me again, probably for the fifth or sixth time, he told me what he wanted from me.

"You see, I am now a very rich married man." He was telling me, even as his penis drilled into me. "I have this mansion in Kolkata. My family lives in the USA, but I come every month to Kolkata for a week, sometimes ten to twelve days. I need a maid, Narges. I need you."

Over the next few days, as I continued to be Sarun's plaything, the exact nature of this job was starting to become clear. Even the very next morning after our first night, Sarun made me give him a blowjob in the kitchen while my husband watched. As I sucked him off, he kept calling me his 'cum dump'.

Then he continued to show his dominance over us by kneading and squeezing my big behind in full view of my husband as I served him breakfast. Fateh became his servant, attending to him at his beck and call, and taking him around the city on his rickshaw. Sarun bought some furniture for us, displaying his wealth and taunting Fateh, and then buying me some sexy underwear as my poor husband watched.

And in the night, as Fateh would sometimes watch, Sarun would fuck me in countless number of ways. Sarun would tease me mercilessly, playing with my cunt and tits until I was a helpless wet mess, and then he would have his way with me. I was fucked in my pussy, fucked in my ass, spanked (and spanked well until my ass was red), fucked in the mouth. He slapped me. He made me kneel on the floor and lick his scrotum and then he ejaculated on my face and tits. You name a sex act - Sarun did it to me.

My poor husband! Fateh had to listen to me moan incoherently and loudly all the time. I was getting the fucking of my life. Time and morality lost all sense to me. All I could think of was Sarun's big dick. In the morning, I couldn't even walk properly, and yet I wasn't safe from Sarun. Every time he took my name, I started to become wet. The man really knew how to pleasure a woman. I was ready to give my all to him any time.

Over the few days, my husband had to confront the fact that he was now a cuckold, and Sarun was now our master. When Sarun wasn't there, I would taunt him.

"Oh, my dear husband." I would tell him. "You saw a young man slap your wife's buttocks until she cried out in pain, and you did nothing. Sarun called me a bitch and a prostitute, and you watched. Sarun plunged his manhood into me and FUCKED me in the ass, and you just watched and jacked off to it? What type of man are you?"

As I would taunt him, I started to slap him. I was taking out my frustrations of life on him.

SLAP!

"Does it feel good knowing another man had lubricated my pussy with his cum?"

SLAP!

"I am your wife. But I belong to him. Does it feel good to sit quietly and watch as he takes what is his?"

SLAP!

"I can't think of a single reason why I would remain faithful to you, after the orgasms he has given me. Can you?"

SLAP!

"Sarun is finally giving me what you never have - a good hard fucking, with a cock that I can actually feel deep inside me."

SLAP!

And Fateh had no answer to my taunts. Or my slaps. He just sat timidly aside every time Sarun fucked me, shamelessly masturbating to the sight of another man fucking his wife.

And my useless husband had especially no answer when Sarun made him the offer.

I knew exactly what we were getting into. Sarun had made it abundantly clear to me one night as he was fucking me.

He had placed me on the bed, on my tummy. I was naked, of course, and very, very wet. I could hear my husband in the next room, cleaning and dusting. Poor guy.

"You are a beautiful lady, Narges." Sarun announced. "Look at that big, round, beautiful ass!"

"Oh, Sarun." I purred. "Remember how you used to lick and kiss that ass!"

"Oh, yes." Sarun laughed. "I may still do that, Narges. But this time, my bitch, it will be on my terms!"

He was calling me names, and I was letting him.

I lay there, shamelessly, waiting for the man to mount me. Sarun poured out more lubricant and applied generously on my butt cheeks.

"Oh, Sarun!" I moaned, half in heat, half in nervous anticipation. "Please be gentle!"

Sarun climbed on me, and in one move, inserted his huge rod into my ass and thrusted into me.

"Ahhhhh!" I cried out, clasping the bedsheet and grimacing as Sarun plunged deep inside my rectum.

Sarun fucked me like "a bitch", to use his own words, for about 5 whole minutes. Then he withdrew, and using his strong arms, lifted and flipped me around, so I was now lying on my back, rather than my tummy. Sarun didn't need to pour any lubricant on my pussy. I was leaking like an open tap. He again climbed in between my thighs and shoved his manhood straight into me. Without even cleaning it.

"My dear Narges," He started to say, as he commenced pumping into me again, "Once you are in Kolkata, in my mansion, you should know what you are in for. You should be fully aware before taking on the job."

"Oh, Sarun." I panted, as I tried to match his thrusts. "I am yours. I am ready for whatever you want from me."

"You will be my slave." Sarun was blunt. "Whenever I want, I will call you. And you will do what I want. If I want you to give me a blowjob, you will kneel and give me one. If I tell you to bend over and show me your ass, you will. I will fuck you whenever I want, HOWEVER I want. In front of WHOever I want."

"Oh, Sarun." For some reason, his words made me even wetter.

"I will punish you as I see fit. I have already spanked you. I will also cane you if I feel like it."

My body started to shake. His words were making me hornier.

"Oh, Sarun!" I cried out. "Oh please. Fuck me harder, fuck me dear, fuck me now, I love you!"

Sarun plunged into me, and out, in and out. His cock rubbed against the wet damp skin of my clit, ploughing deep into my folds, going where my husband could only dream of going. You might wonder why I was agreeing to Sarun's demands, but I was in the middle of another massive orgasm. I was hugging him tightly and leaking for almost a minute.

Sarun recognized this and slowed down, fucking me this time with long slow deep strokes, and kissing me on my mouth.

"Do you agree, my love?" He asked. "Do you want to be my sex slave? My bonded woman? My cum dump? My rakhel?"

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" I could only mumble back.

"Good!"

My response seemed to have pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he ejaculated, filling up my vagina with his semen till it overflowed, once again staining the bed sheets. I caressed his balls as he continued to cum. Sarun was now nibbling my neck, still ejaculating. Finally, he collapsed on top of me, lying there as his dick throbbed, the sperm slowing down to a trickle.

You will be my slave. Whenever I want, I will call you. And you will do what I want. If I want you to give me a blowjob, you will kneel and give me one. If I tell you to bend over and show me your ass, you will. I will fuck you whenever I want, HOWEVER I want. In front of WHOever I want.

I will punish you as I see fit. I have already spanked you. I will also cane you if I feel like it.

After Sarun left our place, I thought long and hard about our future. It was easier to think clearly when a giant dick was not constantly in your pussy, giving your massive orgasms. Something I hadn't experienced before this week for a long time.

The loan to Wasim had been repaid. We were now in no danger from Wasim or his men. Even though he was a gangster, Wasim still operated by a set honour code. Once a loan was repaid, you don't trouble the borrower. This encouraged others to repay their loans too.