Victim Pt. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

In recent past I was tossing around with an idea and concept pertaining to 'OFFICE PROMOTION'. Normally whether a husband's 'PROMOTION' or a wife's, the ultimate 'VICTIM' of the circumstance is the wife. It's like whether the knife falls on a watermelon or the watermelon falls on a knife, ultimately the watermelon gets cut.

So, I thought of branding my new story as 'VICTIM' as that was the ultimate reality. 'VICTIM' is an elaborate story pertaining to a husband's promotion, and the subsequent melodramatic twists and turns takes place in the process.

There is an old saying 'Curiosity Kills The Cat'; but that stands good even for AMBITION -- 'Over Ambitious Attitude Too Kills The Cat'. The cat here doesn't necessarily means any person, but a well defined home, a well settled relationship, and/or a well said marital vow.

* * * * *

'VICTIM' is about a woman, whom I'd met some decade and half back in Goa, India. I was with my family at the Calangute beach resort hotel, when this adorable woman in her early thirties became a bit friendly first with my wife and then with me.

We had some nice time together along the beach and in the hotel surroundings. The restaurant as well as the bar of the hotel where we were staying were quite good as well as tastefully designed keeping in mind the holidaying folks taste and mood. The three of us spend some quality time together gossiping and un-winding.

What bothered both me and my wife was that most of the time this lady was all alone to herself. How can a woman at the prime of her youth visit such a romantic place alone? It just can't be digested so easily. Until one fine morning we saw her hanging around with a man at least three-quarter of a foot taller, a good hundred pound more in weight and age-wise good enough to be her father (as grandfather would be too rude a word in that context).

She saw us and avoided eye contact. We too behaved the same way for obvious reasons. In the evening we were idling under a palm-leaves huge beach-umbrella around the farthest of the rocky beach when we spotted the woman again alone. She came to us and apologizes for her indifferent behaviour earlier. My wife consoled her in an 'understood way' and offered her some fine scotch with ginger-ale. She took a big gulp and then broke down to spill out the beans.

The gentleman we saw in the morning was her husband's Big Boss and a Partner in the JV (Joint Venture) business. Her husband was a VP in the same firm and had raised the ladder and levels from a lower-middle cadre. How she had become a corporate-wife to please not only the inside Bosses, but also the outside valued clients. Her indirect contributions had consequently led to direct impact on her husband's rising to high places.

This story is dedicated to that particular woman who became the 'VICTIM' of the vicious circle of corporate sins and systems. Deliberately I've avoided the names and the places not to indulge in any sort of embarrassment to any particular individual.

Even I talked to the woman concerned before posting this in Literotica; she read the soft copy and approved the same. She liked the concept, flow and content. This story is of an 80 : 20 ratio of reality -- 80 per cent fact and 20 per cent fiction. Unless the fact is garnished with some amount of fiction, it won't appeal... So, please read and enjoy 'VICTIM'...

* * * * *

PRELUDE:

Promotions have their own sweet pleasures... But pleasures just can't be sweeter than an over-dose of sublime pain!

Pains are like stress-busters!

Pains act like catalysts when inter-mingled with some amount of unforgettable memories have their own contribution of intensity to boost up a life with some mischief, a lot of mistakes and tons of manipulations (what I probably forgot to mention was... misappropriation).

* * * * *

I'm Mrs. Das -- Mrs. Divya Das.

I'm with Mr. Das -- Mr. Dev Das since I was Miss -- Miss Divya Dutta!

Divya Dutta to Divya Das was a long journey of flirts, flings and sweet nothings... We were dating each other since our prom-night... When I was eighteen and he was barely a year older than me. We both were virgins and inexperienced. So, the first time we messed around quite a bit. That was the worst experience. The second time we tried was worse. Third time was bad. Fourth time was good. Fifth, sixth, seventh... Better, better, better...

But the best was yet to come...

Reasons partly known and partly unknown...

Known because I's always a sex-starved person, craving for more, all the way and all the time... It may be termed as insatiable or a bit of a schizophrenic characteristic... Even after two to three rounds... I sometime get up late in the night for artificial stimulation to quench my thrust.

Unknown because despite a moderate height and figure, I surprisingly possessed a pair of long, thick and puffy outer labia, as well as a perennial wet and warm cunt. Though Dev was well endowed down there with a seven inch cock with a circumference of five inches, over the period of our marriage, I quivered for more... I mean big... BIGGER... B-I-G-G-E-S-T!

My bedroom fantasy led me to go for... 8"... 9"... 10" Dildos... Different shapes, sizes and colours... Though black and vienny were my all time favourites. Even the greater the girth was a bigger hit in the privacy of my bedroom.

* * * * *

My husband Dev Das, General Manager Merchandising with a multinational conglomerate specialized in family footwear business with formal, casual, sports, and open footwear like chappals and sandals for men, women and kids. He was with the Company for the past nine years, which he'd joined as a UTDM (Under-Training District Manager) and had grown to this level with sheer hard work and dedication.

But beyond GM, the promotions though are based on performance, there were more unethical and unannounced annexure attached to them with the calibre of the better-half of the employees as to how she used to behave and handle the 'Bosses' of her husband. My hubby's Company was no different from that, so far as promotions to the top level was concerned.

Dev's immediate Boss was the CEO -- Mr. Raghu Pillai a South Indian guy from Chennai (old Madras) capital of Tamil Nadu, His Boss was the Deputy Managing Director -- Mr. Jaswant Singh a Punjabi from Amritsar, Punjab. And finally his Boss -- The Managing Director -- Mr. Keith Weston, with roots from Jamaica, born and brought up in Dusseldorf, Germany.

So, my hubby's next promotion to the level of Vice President Merchandising, which was a pan India position, was based on the cumulative decision of these three 'Big Bosses'. Though Dev was thoroughly eligible and quite capable for the coveted position, the ultimate result was totally dependent on as to how his wife (which of course I am) is going to behave in the night of the New Year Party. It was an extravaganza in its true sense as the Company literally spends a small fortune on conducting the year-ending function with lots of pomp and ceremony.

There used to be huge stage shows, multiple dances performances, countless contests; with best of the dinning and the finest of liquors. Drinks literally flow like water, and beyond the new year celebration majority of the crowd were either passed out at various places both inside and outside the farmhouse or were dropped back to their houses by pre-booked cabs.

* * * * *

Dev's CEO Raghu Pillai very much enjoys controlling his junior executives' lives the way he wanted to mend and mould. It's an open secret throughout the Company that Raghu uses his power and position of influence to his sexual advantage whenever possible with whatever implications. Even if that meant literally killing someone's aspirations or sabotaging someone's long cherished dreams.

Lately, his favourite sport consists of hosting large parties at the best of the estates in the periphery of the mega-metro, to impress his seniors, where he announces the ultimate name of the guys deserving the next promotions within the top hierarchy of the Company.

These promotions were based not only on the executives work performance but on their wife's bedroom performance with Raghu, Jaswant and Keith.

Shortly after all of the guest arrive at the grand parties; Raghu would invite the pre-selected candidate's wife on a private tour of the exquisite farmhouse, where Jaswant and Keith would be waiting for her in some select bedroom from the choice of more than a dozen and half of bedrooms in the huge split floor farmhouses. Hence, even if a sober husband with less intoxication of liquor would intend to find out his missing wife, it would probably take his an hour or more to scan over... By then most of the things would have been over with his wife...

Since these were promotions to positions of power and money, most of the wives cooperate fully with the trio's unethical requests. If the wife performs to the satisfaction of the trio; then it is most likely the position will be filled by her husband and Keith would promptly announces it later towards the fag-end of the party.

* * * * *

It was 2007 when I first met Dev at the prom-night of our High School in Gurugram, south of Delhi. After passing out schooling, both of us joined FDDI (Footwear Design and Development Institute), Noida, and North of Delhi. Most people think Noida is a name, but very few know that NOIDA is an abbreviation -- New Okhla Industrial Development Area, Okhla being the name of a small nearby village.

After completion of the four years degree course, Dev joined his present Company and I joined a multinational sports footwear Company through campus recruitment. Soon after our secured jobs, with good salary and descent perks, we got married. Three years down the line we were blessed with a son and a daughter after a gap of another two years.

Life was great -- A caring husband, two lovely kids, a descent villa in a posh location and a dream mean-machine -- A four-wheel SUV -- Range Rover.

Before I move over to the next part of the story, it's time for giving a vivid detail about me -- Between 2007 and 2020; there was a gap of 13 years. The 18 year old bubbly and chirpy girl had transformed into a voluptuous beauty of 31. With a modest height of 5'5" and a weight of 130 pounds, I'm easily labelled as one of the most shout-after BDSM in my Company as well in our integrated Society Club Parties.

* * * * *

CHAPTER: 1 -- BUYING OF A NEW DRESS FOR THE OCCASSION!

Dev was extra excited about the New Year bash of 2020 to be thrown by his Company at one of the posh farmhouse spread over an area of 12 acres -- 480,000 square feet of sheer luxury with immaculate land-scarping, light-n-musical flora-fountains, artificial and well maintained forests, tiled walk-around, three swimming pools, one deep diving, half a dozen of hot-tubs -- Strategically located at lawn side, garden side, and forest side; three ideally located bars -- One Indian, another Imported, and the last one the Ethnic Specialty Bar adjoining the biggest swimming pool nearing to the well maintained artificial Tropical Forest.

The 'Invitation Cards' had a secret code of colour -- BGR -- Blue-Green-Red, Blue for Mass Employees, Green for Upper Management and Red for Class Employees -- Top of the crest as well as the inspirational Managers to move up the ladder fast.

Dev was too much excited to see the all 'Red Invitation Card' with his name tastefully embossed with designer Italic letters!

Which suggested the very fact that... We will be part of the exclusive employees division! That means I and Dev would be entitled for the Forest Side Exclusive Swimming Pool, Hot-Tub, and The Corporate Mini Ethnic Bar!

Seeing Dev's excitement, I too was over-whelmed with equal amount of excitement, with anticipation of a gala time with the Corporate big-wigs.

* * * * *

It was three days prior to our Party, that I got a call from an unknown number. Tentatively I picked up the call and was relaxed a bit to hear a woman's voice on the other end. She introduced herself as 'Shellie' -- Executive Assistant to the MD from Dev's Company.

She was quick to congratulate me and Dev on our 'Red Card Circle' membership and then took a couple of minutes to brief me about the dress code for the party. After wishing me all the very best, she told me looking forward to meet me in person on the D-Date and hung the phone like a typical Corporate MD's very busy Executive Assistant.

I was very excited to receive a personal call from the Executive Assistant of the MD. I just could not wait to share the talk with Dev. As he stepped into our villas, I hugged him tightly and told him about the conversation with Shellie. He was more excited than me and also told me to go out and buy myself an absolutely stunning new dress for the occasion as per the specification without any hesitation or constraint on the 'Price Tag'.

I was, of course, thrilled.

Much to my amazement Dev suggested he'd accompany me to the shops to help me select my new dress.

I was pleasantly surprised as he never takes an interest in buying my dresses and is quite content to accept what I buy and wear. To him, I look good in anything, and better without anything!

We looked at dozens of dresses in the top of the Department Stores, Shopping Malls and High Street Stores; but finally he zeroed down on the one from an 'International Brand Outlet' was in the South Delhi's Premium Mall located at Vasantkunj 'DLF Emporio'. The brand was Chanel -- It was very feminine with minimalistic design but pretty revealing without looking slutty but definitely I for one probably wouldn't have chosen that one without the presence of my ATM card; that is my hubby! Because the price tag -- Which was too fancy to be true for a party-wear?

It was a delightful pretty dark charcoal black dress in two distinct parts. It had the skirt which was rather short compared with what I normally wear to any outdoor parties (indoors were an exception, because of the informal crowd and surroundings).

The top was separate, which was precisely a sleeveless blouse sort of pretty short thing with just three big crystal buttons down the front. The material wasn't really very thin, in fact it was a little thicker than the one I would have chosen.

The dress certainly looked really nice on me when I tried it on in the premium store's exclusive trial-room. The only reservation was that... If I lift my arms up above my head then there was a big gap of about six inches showing my bare belly.

I don't usually wear any dresses which expose my belly button! I am not least ashamed of my body and body parts. In fact I am very pleased with the way I look. But I don't exactly like baring my skin to others. Particularly my deep and dark belly button. Because, my close circle buddies normally say I look oomph when I reveal my belly-button. Anyway, when it was the one my hubby had chosen and this was the one he had specially bought for me was the most exclusive and expensive one since anything he had bought for me since our marriage.

* * * * *

As if that was not enough, he also insisted on buying me some new innerwear. After scanning over half a dozen stores and a few dozen designs, Dev finally zeroed down on a sexy one which consisted of a very tiny bra really only a quarter cup on which my 36" 'D' breasts sat completely exposing the top three-fourth to the level of my dark, long and stout nipples.

The bottom part of the designer under-garment was an extremely tiny thong which I was almost too ashamed to be seen in and intended to protest almost instantly. It was a very thin bend of elastic around my lower belly, below about four inches of my belly button, with what appeared to be a piece of thin string which went between my butt cheeks and only about 1" wide where it was supposed to cover my long, thick and hairy outer labia.

I have always trimmed the edges of my dark, dense, long and wavy pubic hair so that it won't show outside my conventional bikini bottoms. But this new pair of innerwear was ridiculous because even pulling the edges as far as they would go didn't go anywhere near covering my married pussy and certainly not my remaining well-trimmed pubic hair, which I'm always proud of and Dev always insist for me to maintain it like a well trimmed landscaping to his maximum liking and taste.

Dev was too persistent and insisted on my complete outfit. So that was what we finally bought after spending a small fortune on an evening party-wear. I'd never seen Dev that much excited in shopping something for me. It's a totally new experience for me. And I's enjoying it with the feeling that everything got to have something to start somewhere for the first time. So, why not the excitement of some fine shopping free-flow with passage of time.

While coming out of the store, I thought that was probably the end of shopping for the day. But I was grossly mistaken and misjudged Dev's shopping spree and interests for the first time since we know each other for more than a decade. Dev literally dragged me to one of the finest footwear store in the luxury mall. He already had zeroed down on a pair of Dolce Vita footwear -- It's a pair of Kelaid Ankle-Boots made up of finest Anthracite Suede material of Androgynous design. With the short skirt and ankle-boots, I was wondering as to what would I look like with my final dress-up!

With the brands, designs and price tags I's virtually feeling to be on top of the world and was wondering as to how much of Dev's personality I knew and how much of him was still a mystery to me.

That was when he pulled out a small Eau-De-Perfume -- Flowerbomb -- It's a timeless classic -- Wearable in any situation fragrance with an utterly fancy price-tag of 165 dollars (About 12500 Indian rupees)!

I couldn't help but asked Dev, whether he has finished with the shopping or something still pending. His reply was, almost done but for one. And that last one was a vanity-bag from Hermes. I's feeling like a queen from an Egyptian Empire, almost there to conquer the world with my beauty and charm! La Cleopatra in the making! It felt like as if I's dating Dev for the very first time with the rarest of rare luxury shopping a woman could ever ask for even after nine years of marriage and with two adorable kids!

* * * * *

When we reached home Dev asked me to model the outfit.

I stripped completely naked and then strapped the charcoal black bra around under my motherly big breasts and dropped my heavy breasts onto the fancy platform which was supposed to support them. The straps were very tiny and really went from under my arms in the front, over my shoulders, to back near my underarms at the back. There wasn't much of this bra as far as the material was concerned even though Dev had paid a lot of money for its intrinsic design and material.

When I tried to pull up my new pitch-black translucent panties I was in for a bigger shock. It was the first time I had worn anything like this in my life so far and with just the string between my ample ass-cheeks it felt like as if it was cutting into my fleshy buttocks. Then with the front being so narrow I was amazed just how much of me it showed in the diagonally set life-size mirror.

I told Dev I would have to shave my pubic hair completely if he expected me to wear these panties for the D-Date, anticipating his personal liking for my pubic hair, he would probably relieve me from wearing that absurd thing. But I was in for a bigger surprise. He readily agreed and told me not to shave all off my luxurious bush but to let him trim it back so that it didn't show too much either from the sides or top. He coolly told me that on the eve of the party, he would shave me just before I go in for the bubble-bath before the much awaited corporate party dinner.