The Rickshaw Driver's Wife Ch. 04

There was no record of Sarun paying us the money, so if we wanted to, we could completely ignore Sarun. He was rich, yes, but he wasn't someone that could threaten us in any way. He was a young man expanding his US business back in India. So, nothing could force us to go and work as his servants. Or as he said, be his "slave".

Still, I wanted to go. I wanted to work in his house as his slave woman.

My husband and I argued a lot about it, but I was firm.

"He has a huge house." I told Fateh. "He is not there half the time, so the house is fully ours to use. We don't ever have to worry about money, and food. We will be eating, and living, well. Why should we not go?"

I knew the answer, of course. Half the time Sarun was not there. That meant, the other half - he was there.

And when he was there, I would be his slave girl, and Fateh his servant. He would have watch, and do nothing, as Sarun had his way with me, his wife. For some reason, that actually made me want to go and be Sarun's slave girl even more.

"My dear," Fateh tried to reason with me. "You are my wife. I am your husband. How can I stand and let another man... do that to you?"

SLAP!

I slapped him, hard. Nowadays I was slapping him a lot. All those years of frustration with Fateh was taking its toll.

SLAP!

"You didn't seem to have any problem last week!" I retorted sharply. "Or when Wasim played with my boobs in front of everyone in the marketplace! And yet... it is my boobs that has now saved you from Wasim!"

SLAP!

Fateh's face fell. He knew what I meant, of course. It was the night when Sarun had made the offer to Fateh.

Sarun had stood behind me, pressed his hardness against my ass, and then had cupped my left breast.

"100,000 rupees." He had told my husband, while holding my left tit. And then he massaged my right breast.

"Another 100,000 rupees."

The offer was cruel from Sarun, but he knew Fateh had no choice.

"It's very simple." Sarun had said, continuing to knead my boobs, and getting no objections from me, or from my cowardly husband. "I am here for the night. You are to allow me to spend the night with your wife and she has to do what I order her to do. If she gives me her body absolutely, then I will loan you 200,000 rupees. You can pay off the money lender, and take your time in paying me back, with no interest."

So now we owed Sarun the money.

"We don't really need to pay him back, my dear wife." Fateh tried to reason with me. "There is no documentation, and really... he cannot do anything to us."

I slapped him again.

SLAP!

"You are an idiot." I told him. "Do you really think such a rich man is without any power? No, the correct thing now is to work for him. As we work from him every year, soon we will work off our loan."

"But..." Fateh was at a loss for words. "This means... he will use... you... and us... as his slaves. Do we really know what we are getting into?"

Did I even know what I was getting into, I wondered. Sarun - he's not the same Sarun as I knew him before. He was now rich... very, very rich. And very, very... dominating. He wanted things his way, and he knew how to get it. I knew he was married, but that didn't stop him from banging me like a 100-rupee whore almost continuously for a week.

And I had seen a bit of his cruel streak. Not only in how he spanked me or fucked me. That I had accepted. He would snap his fingers and I would bend over, presenting my buttocks to him. He would spank me until my ass was stinging with pain, and crimson red with his handprints. He also told me that back in Kolkata, I should be ready to be whipped, or caned, or lashed with a belt, should he fancy.

I had also been slapped a few times until my cheeks were stinging red. Often, I would be on my knees in front of him, and just before I would go down on him, he would grab my hair in a tight fist, and pull up, and then pat my cheeks as he held me firmly. A couple of tight slaps to my cheeks, before I would open my lips and start sucking on his cock.

I had accepted this physical domination and cruelty as the price to pay for being his sex slave. Sarun also told me he would use the whip or the cane on Fateh, should my husband displease him. So, I knew that both of us were making ourself subject to being physically punished if we went to work for him.

But Sarun's true cruelty was in how he taunted and mocked and made fun of my husband Fateh, fully flaunting his dominance over us.

He would often, to demonstrate his power in our household, mock my husband as he fucked me.

"Who is fucking your wife, Fateh?" Sarun would taunt Fateh as he had his rod inside me, poking and prodding me, while I was shamelessly having another loud orgasm.

"You are, sahib." My husband had to abjectly reply. "And I remain your grateful slave for your generosity, sahib."

"I will fuck her whenever I want, Fateh. She is my cum dump."

"Yes, sahib you such a considerate person and a dear friend that you are most welcome to fuck my wife anytime you want." Fateh had to grovel.

And I remembered the morning where he made Fateh accompany him and I to the toilet.

Both my husband and I were naked. I had been ordered to remain in the nude while carrying out all household duties, while Fateh was also ordered to strip. There we were, husband and wife, fully naked, while serving Sarun who remained clothed. Then he ordered both of us to the toilet.

We had to walk naked from the house, through our yard, to the lavatory. Any of our neighbours could see us if they peered over the small fence. Or were watching from their house.

"Fateh," Sarun ordered. "Lie down on the washroom floor."

My poor husband, completely naked, had to lie down on the cold, wet, dirty washroom floor.

"Narges," Sarun then turned to me and commanded. "Squat over to his face and urinate there."

I don't know why I simply obeyed Sarun, blindly. I didn't even hesitate - not for one second. I simply did as told, nay... as ordered, placing my thighs either side of Fateh's head, and my cunt over my husband's open mouth, and began to urinate. Soon I had covered poor Fateh's face and hair completely with my yellow urine.

"Now rub your ass over his filthy face." Sarun commanded.

Again, I did as told. I sat down with my full weight on his head, rubbing my pussy and anus back and forth over my husband's face which was drenched with my own piss. I was aroused, and soon I began to cum, squirting my pussy juices all over poor Fateh's face and into his mouth.

And yet, Sarun wasn't done humiliating Fateh yet. He pulled me to one side, and made me kneel in front of him, and take out his cock. He himself then urinated on my husband, drenching him from head to foot, before commanding me to lick his dick clean.

"You are fit to use as a toilet," Sarun told my husband Fateh, "And your wife is my toilet paper, cleaning my dick of pee."

All I could reply was, "Yes, sahib."

I, the Rickshaw Driver's Wife, was his toilet paper, and my husband Fateh was the toilet.

"Now, Narges." Sarun held my hair again firmly in a tight fist and made my role very clear. "While I am here, you will remain naked or dressed, as I tell you. I will fuck you whenever I want and you are to pleasure me before, during and after our copulation."

I was the slut wife. I was his slave girl. I was his cum dump.

"Yes, Sarun."

No wonder Fateh didn't want to go to Kolkata. But, in the end, he was a cuckold, he was in Sarun's debt, and he had a wife who wouldn't accept no... and so I won.

Why did I so badly want to be Sarun's sex slave? When I knew he could be a cruel master?

I guess it was a combination of many things. Years of living in poverty, with a husband who was much older than me, who couldn't satisfy me in bed at all. Years of living in fear of thugs and hoodlums to whom my husband was in debt and had no plans on paying back. Years of sexual frustration combined with resentment towards my husband... and then out of nowhere the sheer timing of Sarun, his thick big cock and his money, arriving as my rescue angel.

No wonder I cuckolded my poor husband. He deserved it.

I am going to now turn the story and narration back to my husband, Fateh. He will continue to story of when Sarun came back to our house, and then our journey forward.

* * *

This is Fateh again. The Rickshaw Driver. The cuckold.

At this stage in the story, you might wonder why I, as a man and husband, am willingly allowing another man to fuck my wife. Why I am taking the abuse from my wife and her lover. Or more importantly, why I am willing to go on with this, even after my debt has been paid.

Well, leave aside the fact that the look on Narges's face as she was penetrated by his cock was something else. I mean, I was willingly going to become a slave to a man who was going to fuck my wife. Which other man would be an ultimate loser by allowing his own wife to take on a lover?

I tried to think about it, and I could only think of one perverted reason.

I knew I had a small dick. I knew I was way older than my wife. And I knew she had a strong sex drive. Unfortunately, all of these meant that I felt less of a man when compared to Sarun, and somehow that humiliation made me very much aroused. Watching Narges get fucked and hearing her scream in throes of an orgasm turned me on. I cannot explain it.

Without any real good reason, the sight of my own dear wife sucking another man's cock, sliding his spit-wet cock in her dripping pussy, riding his cock, bending over doggy and looking at me as he entered her, talking dirty to him and complimenting his cock and body, fucking him till she was screaming out in orgasm, and sucking him again till he came inside her, or swallowing his seed while looking at me drove me wild.

The very thought goes against everything conscience and instinctual.

You might think I don't love my wife anymore. That is not true. I do love Narges. I love her a lot. And I got really jealous when she went to bed with Sarun. Insanely jealous. When Narges was with him, for that whole week, the emotional torture within me raged like a furnace. I was jealous. I was angry. And I was helpless. Nothing compared to this emotional torture... this tormented tearing of my soul as my wife let another man ejaculate inside of her and knowing that I cannot stop it.

Yet, it was the most perfect combination of emotions I have ever felt. I guess... in short... my wife was right. I was a loser. I was not a real man. Now that there was a real man in her life, someone with lots of money, someone giving her lots of gifts, someone giving her lots of off the charts sex, I had no choice but to accept it.

My master Sarun did want me to write about my feelings, so I hope he appreciates this little detour from the story. So... alright... let me get back to what happened next.

Dear reader, almost two months had passed since our master Sarun was here, fucking my wife and paying off my loan. Finally, last night, he had unexpectedly called and said he would be here today by late afternoon. He talked mostly to my wife, making her giggle and blush like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. He only briefly spoke to me.

"Remember our rules, cuckold." He warned me with disdain. "Be on good behaviour when I am there so your wife doesn't have to punish you. So that I don't have to punish you. I have a belt that would love to meet your ass."

"Er... I will do my best to please you, sahib."

"And be prepared to soon move to Kolkata."

"Yes, sahib."

This morning I couldn't drive my rickshaw. My wife had me running errands, such as getting groceries so she could prepare Sarun's favourite food, and then I spent the rest of the morning cleaning the house and bedroom and moving some of my stuff out of the bedroom.

It was now the afternoon, and I was on my knees in the living room, begging my wife.

"My dear, please." I pleaded. "You know I need the release, and you promised me, my dear."

I badly needed to cum, but since last week, my wife had expressly forbidden me to masturbate without her permission. It was yet another addition to her list of rules.

"Why?" My wife looked at me. "I gave you a hand job last week!"

"I'm sorry my dear," I begged again. "With sahib here, you know I will need some release before he comes. You know I won't get any release when he is here with you."

Narges made a face.

"You are so pathetic." She scoffed. "Why can't you control your perverted urges like real man!"

"Please, my dear." I implored. "Allow me to masturbate, please."

Narges raised a hand and slapped me. Nowadays she often slapped me as a punishment.

SLAP!

"Alright, Husband. I am going to let you ejaculate," She snarled, "It's more than you deserve, though."

"Thank you." I meekly replied.

SLAP!

"Where are your manners?!" Narges raised her voice.

"I'm sorry, thank you, my dear, sweet wife!" I grovelled.

SLAP!

"Go to the lavatory. Take your clothes off once inside, and don't even think about touching yourself until I join you." Narges ordered.

"Yes, my dear wife."

Soon I was in the lavatory in the backyard, fully naked. As I was waiting for Narges, I was feeling intensely aroused. My erection began to throb in anticipation of its first ejaculation in nearly seven days. It took all my will power not to touch myself, but I knew that any deviation from her instructions would only cause me further denial.

Narges entered after ten minutes. She was wearing her sari, which left quite a lot of her navel and waist exposed, as was the norm in our culture. Her clothes, the sari, clung snugly against her ass. Ever since the last two months, she was looking even more radiant than usual. It appeared that being fucked day and night by a man like our master Sarun had done my wife a world of good.

"Alright, Husband." She looked with disdain down at my manhood. "Let's see this pathetic excuse of a cock you have! A penis like this doesn't even deserve to ejaculate."

"I am sorry, my dear."

"Because you are my Husband, I still love you, so I will allow you a release."

Narges spit generously into her hand, wiped the precum off the tip of my penis, and used that and her own spit for lubrication as she began stroking me. Oh, how it felt so good to have my penis attended to! I knew I wasn't going to last very long.

"You know, Husband." Narges continued to stroke me. "You disappointed me this morning. You know Sarun is going to come, and yet you were tardy in going to the market, and getting sloppy with the cleaning, and now wasting time with... this."

"I am sorry, my dear." I croaked. "But... but... I also have some needs, my dear wife."

"And what did you try and argue with me this morning?" Narges completely ignored my excuse and carried on. "Why do you want Sarun to wear condoms?"

"My dear." I tried to make my case while keeping my voice in check, even as my wife increased her pace of stroking me. "He is just... cumming... in you. He's a young man, and you are a young woman. He can make you pregnant."

"Well," Narges grinned. She stopped stroking me for one minute, before resuming again. "You should have thought about that before you gambled our future away."

Her comment almost made me cum. I knew I couldn't last for much longer as Narges continued to rub my penis while continuing to humiliate me.

"My dear." I begged. "You are only thirty-two. At the prime of your fertility. When is your next period due, my dear?"

Narges laughed. Once again, she stopped stroking me for a minute, raised her hand and patted my right cheek. I knew what was coming next.

SLAP!

SLAP!

Giving me two tight slaps, Narges grinned at me, before starting to stroke my manhood again.

"Well, my period was about two weeks ago, and I felt a little cramp this morning so I might be ovulating." She chortled. "You know Sarun cums a lot. I am sure that there is an egg in me to be fertilized. This month I am sure his ample semen will hit the mark."

The last statement almost pushed me over the edge. I could feel my orgasm steadily building. So could Narges, and she immediately slowed the pace of her hand job.

"You need to now accept that I am Sarun's slut, and you are his sissy. Accept it." She said, as she continued to stroke me. "Let's be honest. You get turned on when he fucks me. And I would allow him to fuck me even if you didn't like it. What will you do to get us to stop? Nothing."

"I am sorry, my dear." I mumbled. "I love you."

"You love me? You LOVE it when he degrades you, don't you?" My wife had a smile on her lips. "You know what... I LOVE it too. Serves you right for cheating me all those years out of a good life. You lied to me, you gambled our money, and now my body belongs to another man. Today, he is going to fuck me again, on our bed, in our house, in front of you. And soon, I will be carrying his child."

The combination of her taunting, the stroking, the jealousy I felt as a man, and the arousal I had as a cuckold was more than I could take, I was about to explode my load. When I reached the moment of no return, Narges cruelly stopped stroking me, and with an evil smile squeezed my balls tightly, effectively abandoning my penis and denying me stimulation at the most critical point in the orgasm.

"Ungh! Umgg! Aaaah." I moaned as a very subdued orgasm took over. My cum slowly arrived at the urethral meatus and spilled over my cockhead. I could feel the urethral muscles move the ejaculate to the tip but in the end, it did not feel very intense.

Still, I had cum, and I had my release as my semen dribbled over to the lavatory floor. Narges made a face as she looked at me.

"Clean up and come inside quickly." She said, wiping her own hands on to the pallu of her sari. "Sarun will soon be here, most likely in an hour or so. We need to be ready."

"Just how much ready do we need to be for him?" I grumbled. "I've already moved my clothes to the living room and changed the bed sheets. What more does that stupid man need!"

Narges looked at me, stunned.

"You will NOT call him that." Narges warned me with a tone that I had never heard her use before. "Sarun is not just MY lover, but he is OUR master. And your duties just don't end because you changed the bedsheet. Remember the rules... you are a mere servant."

"My dear wife." I tried to plead. "My love. Isn't it enough that he gets to... um... go to bed with you? Does he have to rub it in with all these rules for me?"

Narges came forward until she was standing in front of me. I knew I was going to get slapped again. It was Narges's way of reminded me of my failure as a man.

SLAP!

"Awww." My young wife mocked me. "Is your little dick making you jealous, husband?"

SLAP!

"Listen up, husband! These were the rules YOU agreed to. It should make it easier for you to submit to him gracefully."

SLAP!

"And let's be honest - we both know you enjoy it!"

SLAP!

"Try, dear husband," Narges continued. "It's best if you wouldn't provoke him."

SLAP!

"Sarun is a young man. Strong. Physically fit. Do you understand what will happen if you provoke him?"

SLAP!

I knew I was defeated.

"Yes, dear wife."

"Now look here, husband." Narges's voice was suddenly soft. She changed her tone, trying to reason with me. "It's not just about him. Or you. This is about me. I'VE chosen him as the man of my heart. He will be the man of the house. So, it's better that you just accept your position."

"My position?" I asked with indignation. "I am your husband!"