Chapter 44
“So, as Namrata said, if you really want this—if you want to experience the kind of pleasure that awakened your inner slut last night, the kind that left you breathless and free—then stay. Accept whatever punishment I deem fit for being an ungrateful little bitch who can’t make up her mind.” His lips curled into a smirk, the arrogance in his tone unmistakable. “Or walk away now, and we end this. For good. No more second chances. No more crawling back.”
“I understand your frustration, Patode,” Shipra began, her voice measured yet tinged with emotion. “It might seem like I’m using you, like I’m playing with your emotions—but you have to understand how difficult this is for me. As a married woman, to—”
SMACK
The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the bathroom, cutting Shipra off mid-sentence. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging from the force of the blow. She stood frozen for a moment, her breath hitching in shock.
Namrata lowered her hand, her lips curling into a smirk—equal parts irritation and amusement. She let out an exasperated sigh before tilting her head, her voice dripping with condescension.
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Shipra,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wake up, already. No one here is judging your morals—because none of us give a damn about them. And as for your precious modesty as a married woman? It would’ve been ripped apart by those thugs, your MMS making the rounds for men to get off to—if not for Patode. So do us all a favor and drop the lecture."
She took a step forward, closing the distance between them, her presence looming, her tone razor-sharp. “We are all consenting adults here, indulging in a little no-strings-attached fun. That’s all this is. That’s all it has ever been, and that’s all it will ever be.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You act as if we’re trying to corrupt you as if we’re the villains in your little morality play. But the truth? We’re offering you something real—an escape. A release. A way to finally purge all that resentment, all that frustration you’ve been bottling up inside. Your precious marriage, the one you clutch onto like a lifeline, isn’t giving you what you need. It’s holding you back, suffocating you. You know it. We know it.”
She leaned in, her gaze unrelenting, stripping away every excuse Shipra had left. “No one here is asking you to break your marriage, Shipra. If anything, we’re giving you a way to survive it. To detox from all the negativity, you keep drowning in. To feel alive again, instead of burying your emotions and pretending they don’t exist. You can keep telling yourself that you’re different, that you don’t belong here, that this isn’t who you are. But if that were true, you wouldn’t still be standing here, torn between guilt and temptation. The act is getting old.”
A slow smirk curled at her lips, dark amusement flickering in her eyes. “So if you’ve made your choice, then stop with the fucking whining and show us your commitment.”
Namrata’s irritation was palpable now, her voice thick with disdain. “Your never-ending drama is proving to be a big turn-off. So stop wasting our time. Either stay, accept your own desires, and take the mind-blowing fucking you are here for, or walk out that door and let me enjoy myself at least.”
The finality in her words lingered in the heavy, steamy air. Shipra remained motionless, her cheek burning, her pulse racing—not just from the sting of the slap, but from the choice laid out before her.
“That should knock some sense into her,” Patode chuckled, amusement lacing his voice as he stepped behind Namrata, pulling her back against him. His grip was firm yet possessive, his body pressing into hers, the heat between them unmistakable.
“Don’t let your friend spoil our mood,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a husky whisper. His hands slid down her hips, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles before traveling up to claim her breasts. He cupped them with a firm grip, kneading their fullness with an almost lazy confidence, as if he had all the time in the world to explore her.
Namrata let out a soft gasp, her head tilting instinctively to the side as Patode’s lips found her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. The contrast of his rough hands and the teasing graze of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, making her body arch into his touch.
Her breath hitched as her own desires took over. One of her hands slipped behind her, fingers curling around Patode’s thick shaft, stroking him with eager, practiced movements, feeling him twitch under her touch while the other hand slid down between her legs, her fingers seeking out the growing ache in her soaked folds, pressing and circling in a rhythm that matched the heat building between them.
They didn’t break eye contact with Shipra. She stood motionless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her wide eyes locked onto them. Though she remained rooted in place, her body betrayed her—her lips parted ever so slightly, her breath shallow, the unmistakable flush of arousal creeping up her skin.
She wanted to move, to say something, to break the moment—but she couldn’t. She could only watch, helpless against the desire pooling low in her belly, torn between hesitation and the undeniable pull of temptation.
“Get on your knees, Shipra,” Patode’s voice rang out, deep and commanding, reverberating through the bathroom. The sheer authority in his tone sent a shiver racing down Shipra’s spine. Her submissive side—so carefully restrained, so often ignored—stirred to life, eager to yield, desperate to obey.
Patode's hand slipped between Namrata’s thighs, fingers brushing teasingly against her slick heat before tapping her inner thigh—a silent signal. Namrata, instantly understanding where this was headed, parted her legs wider without question, a wicked smile curving on her lips.
Patode’s gaze flicked back to Shipra, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “Crawl over here like an obedient little bitch,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a growl. “and make yourself useful—get your friend ready for me.”
Shipra, already emotionally vulnerable, found the weight of submission settling over her like a second skin, familiar and intoxicating. Without a word, without resistance, she sank to her knees. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto all fours and began to crawl.
Namrata let out a soft, amused chuckle as she watched Shipra approach, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, this is what you really are Shipra,” she purred, running a teasing hand down her own body. “A submissive little bitch in heat who gets turned on being treated like a slut.”
She spread herself wider, one hand slipping between her thighs, fingers gliding through her clean-shaven pussy. Slowly, deliberately, she parted her slick folds, exposing the glistening pink flesh and engorged clit beneath. Her breath hitched slightly at her own touch, but her smirk remained as she locked eyes with Shipra.
“Now, lick me,” Namrata taunted, her voice velvety smooth, dripping with authority. “And watch how foolish you were trying to resist as Patode tears this cunt with his monstrous dick making me cum over and over again."
The room seemed to shrink around them, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Shipra, her heart pounding, obeyed without hesitation, her tongue darting out to taste the salty sweetness of Namrata's arousal. Her movements were tentative at first, but as the tension in the room grew, so did her confidence. She could feel Patode's presence looming over them, his dominance a tangible force that seemed to guide her every action.
Namrata's breath hitched as Shipra's tongue worked its way over her sensitive flesh, her hands tangling in Shipra's hair to guide her movements. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a mix of encouragement and command. "Just like that. Go deeper. Make me all wet and ready."
Namrata's hips swayed in a hypnotic rhythm, perfectly synchronized with the movements of Shipra's tongue. Their eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection fueling the intensity of the moment. Meanwhile, Patode was thanking his stars for another opportunity to execute his dark plan—to bend Shipra to his will, to completely break her, and to claim her submission entirely.
In one swift, effortless motion, Patode slid his hands beneath Namrata’s thighs and lifted her, drawing a surprised giggle from her lips. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body moulding against his as he spread her legs wider, positioning her just above his crotch. Her wet, glistening folds hovered mere inches above the thick, throbbing length of his cock, the heat between them electric with anticipation.
His rock-hard cock stared right at her, the slick tip practically teasing her lips, daring her to obey. Shipra was beyond the point of hesitation now. The fleeting taste of freedom she had experienced the night before had consumed her thoughts. All she wanted was to escape the weight of her troubles, even if just for a moment.
Her lips parted as she leaned in, her breath warm against Patode’s skin. She bit her lower lip briefly, anticipation swirling in her chest before her trembling fingers reached for Patode’s cock, her action hesitant yet desperate. But before she could make contact, he stepped back, his eyes dark with amusement and control.
“You don’t get the privilege of serving me, Shipra,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with dominance. “My sluts don’t just get to act out without consequences. When they misbehave, they pay for it. Unless you give me a damn good reason to forget your ungratefulness, or Namrata decides to plead for mercy on your behalf, you won’t so much as touch me. Instead, you’ll focus entirely on pleasing Namrata—while you suffer, burning with the torturous need for the release you know only I can give you.”
He smirked as Shipra swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together involuntarily. He could see it—the frustration, the helpless yearning. And he revelled in it.
Namrata, savouring every moment of Shipra’s humiliation, let a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. Keeping her gaze locked on Shipra’s, she reached for Patode’s cock, guiding it to her slick entrance with deliberate slowness—teasing, daring, challenging Shipra to lose control, to break, to act like the desperate slut she was being reduced to.
“Don’t waste your hopes on me,” Namrata purred, her voice dripping with amusement. “I have no intention of begging for you. I’m more than capable—and more than happy—to take care of Patode myself.”
Her smirk deepened as she sank onto him, her eyes never leaving Shipra’s, reveling in the torment flickering across her face.
"Are you ready, Namrata?" he taunted, stepping back slightly. "It’s time to satisfy that itch of yours… and show Shipra exactly what she’ll be missing when she’s stuck with that pathetic wimp, Alok."
A shiver ran through Namrata at his words, her breath hitching. “Ohhh yes, Patode,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. “I can't wait any longer.”
Patode responded with equal hunger, his grip easing on her thighs as he slowly lowered her onto his cock.
“Ohhh Godddd Patode your dick feels so good,” Namrata cried in pleasure, her voice trembling with pleasure as inch by inch, her drenched pussy stretched to take him, greedily swallowing his full length. The erotic sight unfolded right before Shipra’s eyes, and sent a jolt of raw arousal through her body.
Patode set a steady rhythm, thrusting into Namrata as he lifted and rocked her against him, his grip firm on her thighs. The slick sounds of their joining filled the steamy air, each wet slap igniting a deeper need within Shipra. She could feel her own arousal dripping between her thighs, her body betraying her restraint.
The ache had become unbearable, a relentless throbbing that demanded relief. Unable to resist any longer, her hand slipped between her legs, fingers gliding through the slick heat pooling at her folds. A sharp gasp tore from her lips as she found her swollen clit, circling it in desperate, trembling strokes.
She bit down on her lip, her body writhing, struggling to match the raw pleasure Namrata was lost in—but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Her fingers couldn’t fill the aching void, couldn’t satisfy the need clawing at her insides.
She knew exactly what she craved. The same ruthless, mind-shattering pleasure she’d drowned in last night. She needed Patode’s cock stretching her open, tearing her apart, ruining her—reducing her to nothing but a desperate, begging mess, hungry for more… and more.
The sight of Patode’s cock plunging in and out of Namrata, glistening with her arousal, was too much to bear. Lust took hold of her completely. Without thinking, she lunged forward, her tongue darting out to taste the intoxicating mixture of their pleasure.
Namrata shuddered at the sensation, a breathless cry escaping her lips as Shipra’s tongue flicked against the point of their connection. Patode groaned, the added stimulation making his thrusts even more forceful.
Oh fuckkkkkk...... Ahhhhhh...Ahhhhhhhhhhh...Ungggggggg
The bathroom was soon filled with the sounds of unrestrained pleasure—Namrata’s breathless moans, Shipra’s eager whimpers, and the deep, commanding grunts of Patode, lost in the throes of indulgence.
"Look at yourself, Shipra," Patode sneered as he pulled back once again, his voice thick with condescension as his dark gaze bore into her. "So desperate for pleasure. So hungry for physical intimacy. I don’t even have to force you anymore—you are acting like a filthy little slut all on your own."
His thrusts never faltered, slamming into Namrata with unrelenting force, yet his attention remained fixed on Shipra. He watched her with a knowing smirk, taking in the way her breath hitched, the way her body trembled with need as witnessed the sinful act unfolding inches from her face.
"And yet," he continued, his tone laced with mockery, "you still refuse to see yourself for what you truly are. You cling to your pathetic morals, to this illusion of being a dutiful wife, denying yourself the real ecstasy of raw, unrestrained sex." He let out a low chuckle, his amusement cruel. "But this slutty act isn't enough to redeem yourself. Today I'll show you how I treat ungrateful bitches like you. Tonight, I'll put you to your right place."
Patode’s grip on Namrata tightened, his thrusts becoming even more brutal, his dominance undeniable. But his cleverly crafted words aimed at Shipra were meant to break her, to unravel every last thread of resistance she had left.
“I’m sorry, Patode,” Shipra’s voice trembled with desperation, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ll behave… I swear… I’ll never hesitate with you again… I’ll never be ungrateful for what you do for me.”
Her eyes, glazed with need, locked onto him, silently begging. Every inch of her body tingled, burning with unbearable hunger, the ache for release consuming her. She was unravelling, falling apart at his feet, willing to say anything—do anything—just to be given what she craved.
“Not enough, bitch,” Patode roared, his voice thick with dominance and disdain. “A pathetic apology won’t cut it. These lust-drenched words mean nothing to me. How could I believe whatever you're saying is sincere? You accepted me as your man yesterday and yet you behaved as it meant nothing to you.”
He stepped closer, letting Namrata down, his cock never slipping from the tight clasp of her cunt. A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest and with a swift, punishing thrust, he drove himself deeper into her, the sheer force of it making Namrata gasp—a raw, breathless sound of pleasure and submission. Her body arched, her spine curving beautifully as she reached out, palms flattening against the wall for balance.
Shipra’s breath hitched kneeling on the floor beneath them. Namrata’s body loomed above her, her flushed skin glistening with water trickling down her body, her full breasts jiggling wildly with every relentless snap of Patode’s hips. The rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, each thrust a declaration of dominance, a display of pleasure so uninhibited it sent a jolt of jealousy and arousal racing through Shipra’s veins.
Namrata’s gaze locked onto hers—heavy-lidded, dark with satisfaction, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk. Triumph shimmered in her lust-filled eyes, a silent taunt that sent a fresh pulse of heat through Shipra’s core. It wasn’t just the pleasure Namrata was experiencing—it was surrender. She was basking in it, revelling in the sheer ecstasy of being taken, owned. And she wanted Shipra to watch.
The hunger coiled inside Shipra, twisting into something unbearable. She knew exactly how Namrata felt. Her body remembered—every shattering orgasm, every merciless stroke, the way Patode had unraveled her last night until nothing else existed but the pleasure he gave her.
And now, watching Namrata drown in that same bliss, Shipra wanted it again. She Needed it. Craved it with an intensity that shattered whatever restraint she had left.
Patode’s eyes flickered downward, locking onto Shipra’s wide, tormented gaze. His smirk deepened, a cruel, knowing glint in his dark eyes.
“I need more than your empty words Shipra,” he growled, his voice low, menacing, vibrating with authority. His thrusts never slowed, each one punctuating his words, making Namrata whimper above her. “Are you sure you have it in you to succumb to my will? Are you ready to do something so filthy, so utterly perverse, that once you do it, you’ll never again be able to see yourself as a modest wife?"
"I am ready, Patode,” she blurted out, her voice breaking with desperation. “I'll do anything."
The words spilled from her lips before she could even process them. The moment she said them, a strange sense of clarity washed over her—this was what she had been running from, denying, suppressing. The truth. The inevitable.
“I get it now," she continued, her voice stronger, surer, even as her body trembled with need. "Besides being a wife and a mother, I am also a woman. I no longer have to feel torn apart between my duties and my needs. I don’t have to choose. I can be both. I can be anything you want me to be.” She met his gaze, wide-eyed and pleading. "I’ll succumb to your will in any and every way you desire… just fuck me. Please. Don’t torture me like this. I beg you."
But Patode was not in the mood to go easy on her. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, heavy with twisted amusement. "So beg," he whispered, his tone low but menacing. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.” He smirked gesturing at his feet. “Beg me to let you be my filthy little slut.”
Shipra shuddered at Patode’s dark challenge, her body betraying her as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her. She should have felt ashamed, humiliated even—but instead, she felt more excited, more eager, more drawn into the depravity unfolding before her.
Patode smirked, fully aware of the torment he was inflicting on Shipra without even touching her. He didn’t need to continue his verbal assault—his actions were far more effective.
He gripped Namrata’s thigh tighter, spreading her even further, his cock driving into her mercilessly, making sure Shipra saw everything—every thrust, every twitch, every slick, obscene detail of her body being taken
“Oh fuuucckkkkk… I’m going to cum… Patodeeee… harder… fuck me harder!” Namrata’s cries were raw and unrestrained, her body shuddering as she teetered on the edge of a powerful orgasm.
Shipra, on her knees, watched with wide, tormented eyes. She remained frozen to her place trying to comprehend Patode's humiliating demand. Her pride resisted her to drop to such a degrading level but her body and mind craved the pleasure he offered.
“Look at her, Shipra,” he commanded, his voice thick with amusement and dominance pushing her further. “She’s about to cum all over my dick—one of many orgasms I’ll give her tonight.” He drove into Namrata harder, making her whimper, making Shipra watch every second of it.
“Just like I gave you all night long yesterday,” Patode murmured, his voice slow and deliberate, every syllable dripping with taunt. His words weren’t just a reminder—they were a claim, a leash around Shipra’s mind, tugging her back into the intoxicating memories of the night before. He had wrecked her, unravelled her, broken her down until she was nothing more than a trembling, pleasure-drunk mess. No thoughts, no resistance—just raw, helpless surrender.
And now, he was offering her that ecstasy again.
His eyes burned into her, dark with amusement, challenge, and something far more dangerous. Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers tangling in her wet hair. A sharp gasp escaped Shipra as he yanked her head back, forcing her spine to arch, her lips parting in both pain and unbearable anticipation. The sting of his grip sent a fresh shiver of arousal through her, her scalp tingling as he pulled her up onto her knees.
She barely had time to steady herself before he shoved her forward, sending her sprawling at his feet. The wet marble was cold against her palms, a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in her belly.
“You just have to degrade yourself, Shipra,” Patode said, his voice thick with command, with temptation. “Tear down every limit you thought you had. Become nothing more than a cock-hungry slut—a submissive little bitch who exists solely for pleasure.”
The words shouldn’t have sent such a vicious thrill through her, but they did. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her skin prickling with shame, with desire, with the unbearable ache of wanting more.
His voice dipped lower, cruel, taunting, designed to break her completely. “And only when there’s nothing left of you but raw, desperate hunger… only when you have proven your sincerity and commitment…” He crouched slightly, his fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Only then, Shipra… will I give you what you crave.”
Her breath hitched. There was no pretense left between them. No more moral dilemmas, no more futile resistance.
Patode had made his intentions crystal clear. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted all of her. He wanted her submission, her obedience, her very sense of self reduced to nothing but his possession. And unlike before, he wasn’t going to let her slip back into doubt or hesitation. No, he would burn this dominance into her mind, searing it into her very being until there was no room left for questioning.
He would own her desire. He would mould her into his perfect plaything.
One moan. One thrust. One act of debauchery at a time.
And tonight, he would leave no part of her untouched by his corruption.
Reaching for a bottle of body soap, Patode poured a generous amount of gel onto Namrata’s back, letting the thick liquid cascade down her glistening skin. Slowly, deliberately, he spread the foaming lather over her body, his hands moving with sinful intent. He explored every inch within his reach, his touch both possessive and teasing, dragging out soft whimpers from Namrata as he worked the soap into her skin.
His palms glided over the curves of her shoulders, down her spine, across the swell of her ass, before venturing to the front—his fingertips grazing the undersides of her breasts, slipping over her taut stomach, dipping dangerously close to her dripping cunt, even as he continued to slam into her with ruthless, unrelenting thrusts. His touch was slow, sensual, maddening, a calculated seduction designed not just to unravel Namrata but to torment Shipra, forcing her to witness every second of his control, every drop of pleasure he could extract from another woman.
Namrata trembled beneath him, her body arching instinctively into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Mmmh… Oh Fuck....you're killing me Patode Patode,” she purred, her voice laced with raw pleasure. Her head tilted back against his chest, completely surrendering to his touch. “Fuck my brains out... I am very close.”
Her desperate plea only fed his arrogance, his smirk widening as he tangled his fingers in Namrata’s wet hair and yanked her back, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her spine arched beautifully, her body curving against him as he drove into her with rough, punishing thrusts, each one claiming her with merciless intensity.
He relished the way she trembled, the way her moans turned into shameless cries of pleasure. But more than that, he savoured the torment etched across Shipra’s face—the silent, agonizing hunger burning in her eyes.
Both women were exactly where he wanted them. One utterly wrecked beneath him, surrendering to his every demand. The other left to watch, helpless, aching, ready to beg to be next.
Within minutes, the steamy bathroom was filled with Namrata’s desperate, uninhibited cries as a powerful orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body tensed, her back arching against the slick tiles before she finally gave in, her knees buckling under the force of her release. With trembling legs, she collapsed onto the wet floor beside Shipra, her eyes fluttering shut, her body still quivering in the aftershocks of raw, unfiltered pleasure. She looked utterly spent—her parted lips, her heaving chest, the dazed expression of a woman lost in the blissful haze of submission.
Shipra shuddered at the sight. Her eyes remained fixed on Namrata's squirming and convulsing form. The storm of arousal inside her reached a fever pitch, impossible to contain any longer. She needed it. Needed him. Needed to feel the way Namrata had just felt—to surrender, to let go, to drown in the intoxicating pleasure only he could give her.
Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse hammering against her ribs as she crawled forward, her head bowing lower, her wet hair clinging to her flushed face.
And then, without another thought, she lowered her head to Patode’s feet, her lips just inches from the marble floor. The final shred of resistance inside her shattered.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw with desperation. “I was a thankless bitch.” She swallowed hard, her arousal and humiliation intertwining into something dark and thrilling. “Please… take care of my needs. I swear, you are my man, and please let me be your—” she exhaled shakily, the words tasting both foreign and exhilarating on her tongue, "slut.”
The confession left her lips like a sacred vow, her submission laid bare before him.
A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from Patode’s chest as he looked down at the once-defiant woman now grovelling at his feet. But he wasn’t done with her yet.
Taking her degradation a step further, he lifted his foot and placed it firmly on the back of her head, pressing her face down onto the cold, wet marble floor. Shipra gasped at the sensation—the stark contrast of warmth and chill, dominance and submission sending a fresh wave of arousal surging through her.
“That’s more like it,” Patode mused, his voice thick with approval, laced with dark amusement. His foot remained firm on the back of Shipra’s head, pressing her face against the cold, wet marble, a deliberate reminder of exactly where she belonged.
“This… this is your real position in this physical relationship, Shipra,” he continued, his tone steady, unyielding. “A desperate, unsatisfied, cheating wife who bends to my wishes. A woman so consumed by her own hunger that she will do anything—even degrade herself beyond her own morals—just to quench that burning itch inside her slutty cunt.”
His words weren’t just crude; they were merciless, stripping her bare in a way that had nothing to do with nudity. And yet, to Shipra’s utter shock, instead of humiliation, instead of shame, a new sensation flooded through her—an erotic thrill so intense, so primal, it made her thighs clench. The weight of his dominance, the sheer force of his control over her, ignited something deep inside her, something she had never felt before.
Instead of breaking her, it was awakening her.
A whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling with unfulfilled need. She should have felt degraded. Used. But instead, her arousal peaked to an unbearable height, her body teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even being touched.
“Yes… Yes, I accept it, Patode,” Shipra whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with both surrender and longing. She lifted her gaze to him, eyes wild, desperate, pleading. “Now please… I can’t bear it anymore. Please, Patode—fuck me!” she all but screamed, her desperation spilling over, breaking whatever restraint, she had left.
Patode exhaled sharply, his smirk widening. He had her. Completely.
“Very well,” he said, his tone nonchalant, as if her begging was nothing more than expected. “Let’s see what lengths you’re ready to go, Shipra.”
Without another glance at her, he lifted his foot off her head, his attention shifting to Namrata, who was still sprawled on the wet floor, her body quivering with aftershocks of pleasure. He reached down, gripping a handful of her ass, and gave it a sharp, punishing slap. Namrata moaned at the contact, arching into him like a well-trained pet.
“I’m taking this bitch to the bedroom,” he announced, his voice dripping with authority. He grabbed a towel, casually wiping himself off before tossing it toward Namrata. “Clean yourself up and join us. Watch as I push the limits of your married friend… corrupting her, degrading her—turning her into a slut so filthy, so shameless, that even you won’t recognize her.”
Shipra trembled at his words, her body humming with unbearable anticipation. She had finally surrendered, given in to the raw, aching need that had consumed her. Relief flooded her veins, her skin prickling with the thrilling promise of what was to come.
With shaky limbs, she rose from her position on the wet floor, her breathing ragged as she tried to steady herself. But just as she began to push herself up, a sharp tug at her scalp sent a gasp ripping from her lips.
A sharp gasp left her lips as he pulled her forward, forcing her to crawl behind him as he strode toward the bedroom. The message was clear—she was his to control, to command, to use as he pleased.
And as much as she had fought it before, she no longer wanted to resist.
She wanted to be owned.
“I understand your frustration, Patode,” Shipra began, her voice measured yet tinged with emotion. “It might seem like I’m using you, like I’m playing with your emotions—but you have to understand how difficult this is for me. As a married woman, to—”
SMACK
The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the bathroom, cutting Shipra off mid-sentence. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging from the force of the blow. She stood frozen for a moment, her breath hitching in shock.
Namrata lowered her hand, her lips curling into a smirk—equal parts irritation and amusement. She let out an exasperated sigh before tilting her head, her voice dripping with condescension.
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Shipra,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wake up, already. No one here is judging your morals—because none of us give a damn about them. And as for your precious modesty as a married woman? It would’ve been ripped apart by those thugs, your MMS making the rounds for men to get off to—if not for Patode. So do us all a favor and drop the lecture."
She took a step forward, closing the distance between them, her presence looming, her tone razor-sharp. “We are all consenting adults here, indulging in a little no-strings-attached fun. That’s all this is. That’s all it has ever been, and that’s all it will ever be.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You act as if we’re trying to corrupt you as if we’re the villains in your little morality play. But the truth? We’re offering you something real—an escape. A release. A way to finally purge all that resentment, all that frustration you’ve been bottling up inside. Your precious marriage, the one you clutch onto like a lifeline, isn’t giving you what you need. It’s holding you back, suffocating you. You know it. We know it.”
She leaned in, her gaze unrelenting, stripping away every excuse Shipra had left. “No one here is asking you to break your marriage, Shipra. If anything, we’re giving you a way to survive it. To detox from all the negativity, you keep drowning in. To feel alive again, instead of burying your emotions and pretending they don’t exist. You can keep telling yourself that you’re different, that you don’t belong here, that this isn’t who you are. But if that were true, you wouldn’t still be standing here, torn between guilt and temptation. The act is getting old.”
A slow smirk curled at her lips, dark amusement flickering in her eyes. “So if you’ve made your choice, then stop with the fucking whining and show us your commitment.”
Namrata’s irritation was palpable now, her voice thick with disdain. “Your never-ending drama is proving to be a big turn-off. So stop wasting our time. Either stay, accept your own desires, and take the mind-blowing fucking you are here for, or walk out that door and let me enjoy myself at least.”
The finality in her words lingered in the heavy, steamy air. Shipra remained motionless, her cheek burning, her pulse racing—not just from the sting of the slap, but from the choice laid out before her.
“That should knock some sense into her,” Patode chuckled, amusement lacing his voice as he stepped behind Namrata, pulling her back against him. His grip was firm yet possessive, his body pressing into hers, the heat between them unmistakable.
“Don’t let your friend spoil our mood,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a husky whisper. His hands slid down her hips, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles before traveling up to claim her breasts. He cupped them with a firm grip, kneading their fullness with an almost lazy confidence, as if he had all the time in the world to explore her.
Namrata let out a soft gasp, her head tilting instinctively to the side as Patode’s lips found her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. The contrast of his rough hands and the teasing graze of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, making her body arch into his touch.
Her breath hitched as her own desires took over. One of her hands slipped behind her, fingers curling around Patode’s thick shaft, stroking him with eager, practiced movements, feeling him twitch under her touch while the other hand slid down between her legs, her fingers seeking out the growing ache in her soaked folds, pressing and circling in a rhythm that matched the heat building between them.
They didn’t break eye contact with Shipra. She stood motionless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her wide eyes locked onto them. Though she remained rooted in place, her body betrayed her—her lips parted ever so slightly, her breath shallow, the unmistakable flush of arousal creeping up her skin.
She wanted to move, to say something, to break the moment—but she couldn’t. She could only watch, helpless against the desire pooling low in her belly, torn between hesitation and the undeniable pull of temptation.
“Get on your knees, Shipra,” Patode’s voice rang out, deep and commanding, reverberating through the bathroom. The sheer authority in his tone sent a shiver racing down Shipra’s spine. Her submissive side—so carefully restrained, so often ignored—stirred to life, eager to yield, desperate to obey.
Patode's hand slipped between Namrata’s thighs, fingers brushing teasingly against her slick heat before tapping her inner thigh—a silent signal. Namrata, instantly understanding where this was headed, parted her legs wider without question, a wicked smile curving on her lips.
Patode’s gaze flicked back to Shipra, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “Crawl over here like an obedient little bitch,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a growl. “and make yourself useful—get your friend ready for me.”
Shipra, already emotionally vulnerable, found the weight of submission settling over her like a second skin, familiar and intoxicating. Without a word, without resistance, she sank to her knees. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto all fours and began to crawl.
Namrata let out a soft, amused chuckle as she watched Shipra approach, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, this is what you really are Shipra,” she purred, running a teasing hand down her own body. “A submissive little bitch in heat who gets turned on being treated like a slut.”
She spread herself wider, one hand slipping between her thighs, fingers gliding through her clean-shaven pussy. Slowly, deliberately, she parted her slick folds, exposing the glistening pink flesh and engorged clit beneath. Her breath hitched slightly at her own touch, but her smirk remained as she locked eyes with Shipra.
“Now, lick me,” Namrata taunted, her voice velvety smooth, dripping with authority. “And watch how foolish you were trying to resist as Patode tears this cunt with his monstrous dick making me cum over and over again."
The room seemed to shrink around them, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Shipra, her heart pounding, obeyed without hesitation, her tongue darting out to taste the salty sweetness of Namrata's arousal. Her movements were tentative at first, but as the tension in the room grew, so did her confidence. She could feel Patode's presence looming over them, his dominance a tangible force that seemed to guide her every action.
Namrata's breath hitched as Shipra's tongue worked its way over her sensitive flesh, her hands tangling in Shipra's hair to guide her movements. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a mix of encouragement and command. "Just like that. Go deeper. Make me all wet and ready."
Namrata's hips swayed in a hypnotic rhythm, perfectly synchronized with the movements of Shipra's tongue. Their eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection fueling the intensity of the moment. Meanwhile, Patode was thanking his stars for another opportunity to execute his dark plan—to bend Shipra to his will, to completely break her, and to claim her submission entirely.
In one swift, effortless motion, Patode slid his hands beneath Namrata’s thighs and lifted her, drawing a surprised giggle from her lips. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body moulding against his as he spread her legs wider, positioning her just above his crotch. Her wet, glistening folds hovered mere inches above the thick, throbbing length of his cock, the heat between them electric with anticipation.
His rock-hard cock stared right at her, the slick tip practically teasing her lips, daring her to obey. Shipra was beyond the point of hesitation now. The fleeting taste of freedom she had experienced the night before had consumed her thoughts. All she wanted was to escape the weight of her troubles, even if just for a moment.
Her lips parted as she leaned in, her breath warm against Patode’s skin. She bit her lower lip briefly, anticipation swirling in her chest before her trembling fingers reached for Patode’s cock, her action hesitant yet desperate. But before she could make contact, he stepped back, his eyes dark with amusement and control.
“You don’t get the privilege of serving me, Shipra,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with dominance. “My sluts don’t just get to act out without consequences. When they misbehave, they pay for it. Unless you give me a damn good reason to forget your ungratefulness, or Namrata decides to plead for mercy on your behalf, you won’t so much as touch me. Instead, you’ll focus entirely on pleasing Namrata—while you suffer, burning with the torturous need for the release you know only I can give you.”
He smirked as Shipra swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together involuntarily. He could see it—the frustration, the helpless yearning. And he revelled in it.
Namrata, savouring every moment of Shipra’s humiliation, let a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. Keeping her gaze locked on Shipra’s, she reached for Patode’s cock, guiding it to her slick entrance with deliberate slowness—teasing, daring, challenging Shipra to lose control, to break, to act like the desperate slut she was being reduced to.
“Don’t waste your hopes on me,” Namrata purred, her voice dripping with amusement. “I have no intention of begging for you. I’m more than capable—and more than happy—to take care of Patode myself.”
Her smirk deepened as she sank onto him, her eyes never leaving Shipra’s, reveling in the torment flickering across her face.
"Are you ready, Namrata?" he taunted, stepping back slightly. "It’s time to satisfy that itch of yours… and show Shipra exactly what she’ll be missing when she’s stuck with that pathetic wimp, Alok."
A shiver ran through Namrata at his words, her breath hitching. “Ohhh yes, Patode,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. “I can't wait any longer.”
Patode responded with equal hunger, his grip easing on her thighs as he slowly lowered her onto his cock.
“Ohhh Godddd Patode your dick feels so good,” Namrata cried in pleasure, her voice trembling with pleasure as inch by inch, her drenched pussy stretched to take him, greedily swallowing his full length. The erotic sight unfolded right before Shipra’s eyes, and sent a jolt of raw arousal through her body.
Patode set a steady rhythm, thrusting into Namrata as he lifted and rocked her against him, his grip firm on her thighs. The slick sounds of their joining filled the steamy air, each wet slap igniting a deeper need within Shipra. She could feel her own arousal dripping between her thighs, her body betraying her restraint.
The ache had become unbearable, a relentless throbbing that demanded relief. Unable to resist any longer, her hand slipped between her legs, fingers gliding through the slick heat pooling at her folds. A sharp gasp tore from her lips as she found her swollen clit, circling it in desperate, trembling strokes.
She bit down on her lip, her body writhing, struggling to match the raw pleasure Namrata was lost in—but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Her fingers couldn’t fill the aching void, couldn’t satisfy the need clawing at her insides.
She knew exactly what she craved. The same ruthless, mind-shattering pleasure she’d drowned in last night. She needed Patode’s cock stretching her open, tearing her apart, ruining her—reducing her to nothing but a desperate, begging mess, hungry for more… and more.
The sight of Patode’s cock plunging in and out of Namrata, glistening with her arousal, was too much to bear. Lust took hold of her completely. Without thinking, she lunged forward, her tongue darting out to taste the intoxicating mixture of their pleasure.
Namrata shuddered at the sensation, a breathless cry escaping her lips as Shipra’s tongue flicked against the point of their connection. Patode groaned, the added stimulation making his thrusts even more forceful.
Oh fuckkkkkk...... Ahhhhhh...Ahhhhhhhhhhh...Ungggggggg
The bathroom was soon filled with the sounds of unrestrained pleasure—Namrata’s breathless moans, Shipra’s eager whimpers, and the deep, commanding grunts of Patode, lost in the throes of indulgence.
"Look at yourself, Shipra," Patode sneered as he pulled back once again, his voice thick with condescension as his dark gaze bore into her. "So desperate for pleasure. So hungry for physical intimacy. I don’t even have to force you anymore—you are acting like a filthy little slut all on your own."
His thrusts never faltered, slamming into Namrata with unrelenting force, yet his attention remained fixed on Shipra. He watched her with a knowing smirk, taking in the way her breath hitched, the way her body trembled with need as witnessed the sinful act unfolding inches from her face.
"And yet," he continued, his tone laced with mockery, "you still refuse to see yourself for what you truly are. You cling to your pathetic morals, to this illusion of being a dutiful wife, denying yourself the real ecstasy of raw, unrestrained sex." He let out a low chuckle, his amusement cruel. "But this slutty act isn't enough to redeem yourself. Today I'll show you how I treat ungrateful bitches like you. Tonight, I'll put you to your right place."
Patode’s grip on Namrata tightened, his thrusts becoming even more brutal, his dominance undeniable. But his cleverly crafted words aimed at Shipra were meant to break her, to unravel every last thread of resistance she had left.
“I’m sorry, Patode,” Shipra’s voice trembled with desperation, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ll behave… I swear… I’ll never hesitate with you again… I’ll never be ungrateful for what you do for me.”
Her eyes, glazed with need, locked onto him, silently begging. Every inch of her body tingled, burning with unbearable hunger, the ache for release consuming her. She was unravelling, falling apart at his feet, willing to say anything—do anything—just to be given what she craved.
“Not enough, bitch,” Patode roared, his voice thick with dominance and disdain. “A pathetic apology won’t cut it. These lust-drenched words mean nothing to me. How could I believe whatever you're saying is sincere? You accepted me as your man yesterday and yet you behaved as it meant nothing to you.”
He stepped closer, letting Namrata down, his cock never slipping from the tight clasp of her cunt. A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest and with a swift, punishing thrust, he drove himself deeper into her, the sheer force of it making Namrata gasp—a raw, breathless sound of pleasure and submission. Her body arched, her spine curving beautifully as she reached out, palms flattening against the wall for balance.
Shipra’s breath hitched kneeling on the floor beneath them. Namrata’s body loomed above her, her flushed skin glistening with water trickling down her body, her full breasts jiggling wildly with every relentless snap of Patode’s hips. The rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, each thrust a declaration of dominance, a display of pleasure so uninhibited it sent a jolt of jealousy and arousal racing through Shipra’s veins.
Namrata’s gaze locked onto hers—heavy-lidded, dark with satisfaction, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk. Triumph shimmered in her lust-filled eyes, a silent taunt that sent a fresh pulse of heat through Shipra’s core. It wasn’t just the pleasure Namrata was experiencing—it was surrender. She was basking in it, revelling in the sheer ecstasy of being taken, owned. And she wanted Shipra to watch.
The hunger coiled inside Shipra, twisting into something unbearable. She knew exactly how Namrata felt. Her body remembered—every shattering orgasm, every merciless stroke, the way Patode had unraveled her last night until nothing else existed but the pleasure he gave her.
And now, watching Namrata drown in that same bliss, Shipra wanted it again. She Needed it. Craved it with an intensity that shattered whatever restraint she had left.
Patode’s eyes flickered downward, locking onto Shipra’s wide, tormented gaze. His smirk deepened, a cruel, knowing glint in his dark eyes.
“I need more than your empty words Shipra,” he growled, his voice low, menacing, vibrating with authority. His thrusts never slowed, each one punctuating his words, making Namrata whimper above her. “Are you sure you have it in you to succumb to my will? Are you ready to do something so filthy, so utterly perverse, that once you do it, you’ll never again be able to see yourself as a modest wife?"
"I am ready, Patode,” she blurted out, her voice breaking with desperation. “I'll do anything."
The words spilled from her lips before she could even process them. The moment she said them, a strange sense of clarity washed over her—this was what she had been running from, denying, suppressing. The truth. The inevitable.
“I get it now," she continued, her voice stronger, surer, even as her body trembled with need. "Besides being a wife and a mother, I am also a woman. I no longer have to feel torn apart between my duties and my needs. I don’t have to choose. I can be both. I can be anything you want me to be.” She met his gaze, wide-eyed and pleading. "I’ll succumb to your will in any and every way you desire… just fuck me. Please. Don’t torture me like this. I beg you."
But Patode was not in the mood to go easy on her. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, heavy with twisted amusement. "So beg," he whispered, his tone low but menacing. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.” He smirked gesturing at his feet. “Beg me to let you be my filthy little slut.”
Shipra shuddered at Patode’s dark challenge, her body betraying her as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her. She should have felt ashamed, humiliated even—but instead, she felt more excited, more eager, more drawn into the depravity unfolding before her.
Patode smirked, fully aware of the torment he was inflicting on Shipra without even touching her. He didn’t need to continue his verbal assault—his actions were far more effective.
He gripped Namrata’s thigh tighter, spreading her even further, his cock driving into her mercilessly, making sure Shipra saw everything—every thrust, every twitch, every slick, obscene detail of her body being taken
“Oh fuuucckkkkk… I’m going to cum… Patodeeee… harder… fuck me harder!” Namrata’s cries were raw and unrestrained, her body shuddering as she teetered on the edge of a powerful orgasm.
Shipra, on her knees, watched with wide, tormented eyes. She remained frozen to her place trying to comprehend Patode's humiliating demand. Her pride resisted her to drop to such a degrading level but her body and mind craved the pleasure he offered.
“Look at her, Shipra,” he commanded, his voice thick with amusement and dominance pushing her further. “She’s about to cum all over my dick—one of many orgasms I’ll give her tonight.” He drove into Namrata harder, making her whimper, making Shipra watch every second of it.
“Just like I gave you all night long yesterday,” Patode murmured, his voice slow and deliberate, every syllable dripping with taunt. His words weren’t just a reminder—they were a claim, a leash around Shipra’s mind, tugging her back into the intoxicating memories of the night before. He had wrecked her, unravelled her, broken her down until she was nothing more than a trembling, pleasure-drunk mess. No thoughts, no resistance—just raw, helpless surrender.
And now, he was offering her that ecstasy again.
His eyes burned into her, dark with amusement, challenge, and something far more dangerous. Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers tangling in her wet hair. A sharp gasp escaped Shipra as he yanked her head back, forcing her spine to arch, her lips parting in both pain and unbearable anticipation. The sting of his grip sent a fresh shiver of arousal through her, her scalp tingling as he pulled her up onto her knees.
She barely had time to steady herself before he shoved her forward, sending her sprawling at his feet. The wet marble was cold against her palms, a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in her belly.
“You just have to degrade yourself, Shipra,” Patode said, his voice thick with command, with temptation. “Tear down every limit you thought you had. Become nothing more than a cock-hungry slut—a submissive little bitch who exists solely for pleasure.”
The words shouldn’t have sent such a vicious thrill through her, but they did. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her skin prickling with shame, with desire, with the unbearable ache of wanting more.
His voice dipped lower, cruel, taunting, designed to break her completely. “And only when there’s nothing left of you but raw, desperate hunger… only when you have proven your sincerity and commitment…” He crouched slightly, his fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Only then, Shipra… will I give you what you crave.”
Her breath hitched. There was no pretense left between them. No more moral dilemmas, no more futile resistance.
Patode had made his intentions crystal clear. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted all of her. He wanted her submission, her obedience, her very sense of self reduced to nothing but his possession. And unlike before, he wasn’t going to let her slip back into doubt or hesitation. No, he would burn this dominance into her mind, searing it into her very being until there was no room left for questioning.
He would own her desire. He would mould her into his perfect plaything.
One moan. One thrust. One act of debauchery at a time.
And tonight, he would leave no part of her untouched by his corruption.
Reaching for a bottle of body soap, Patode poured a generous amount of gel onto Namrata’s back, letting the thick liquid cascade down her glistening skin. Slowly, deliberately, he spread the foaming lather over her body, his hands moving with sinful intent. He explored every inch within his reach, his touch both possessive and teasing, dragging out soft whimpers from Namrata as he worked the soap into her skin.
His palms glided over the curves of her shoulders, down her spine, across the swell of her ass, before venturing to the front—his fingertips grazing the undersides of her breasts, slipping over her taut stomach, dipping dangerously close to her dripping cunt, even as he continued to slam into her with ruthless, unrelenting thrusts. His touch was slow, sensual, maddening, a calculated seduction designed not just to unravel Namrata but to torment Shipra, forcing her to witness every second of his control, every drop of pleasure he could extract from another woman.
Namrata trembled beneath him, her body arching instinctively into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Mmmh… Oh Fuck....you're killing me Patode Patode,” she purred, her voice laced with raw pleasure. Her head tilted back against his chest, completely surrendering to his touch. “Fuck my brains out... I am very close.”
Her desperate plea only fed his arrogance, his smirk widening as he tangled his fingers in Namrata’s wet hair and yanked her back, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her spine arched beautifully, her body curving against him as he drove into her with rough, punishing thrusts, each one claiming her with merciless intensity.
He relished the way she trembled, the way her moans turned into shameless cries of pleasure. But more than that, he savoured the torment etched across Shipra’s face—the silent, agonizing hunger burning in her eyes.
Both women were exactly where he wanted them. One utterly wrecked beneath him, surrendering to his every demand. The other left to watch, helpless, aching, ready to beg to be next.
Within minutes, the steamy bathroom was filled with Namrata’s desperate, uninhibited cries as a powerful orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body tensed, her back arching against the slick tiles before she finally gave in, her knees buckling under the force of her release. With trembling legs, she collapsed onto the wet floor beside Shipra, her eyes fluttering shut, her body still quivering in the aftershocks of raw, unfiltered pleasure. She looked utterly spent—her parted lips, her heaving chest, the dazed expression of a woman lost in the blissful haze of submission.
Shipra shuddered at the sight. Her eyes remained fixed on Namrata's squirming and convulsing form. The storm of arousal inside her reached a fever pitch, impossible to contain any longer. She needed it. Needed him. Needed to feel the way Namrata had just felt—to surrender, to let go, to drown in the intoxicating pleasure only he could give her.
Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse hammering against her ribs as she crawled forward, her head bowing lower, her wet hair clinging to her flushed face.
And then, without another thought, she lowered her head to Patode’s feet, her lips just inches from the marble floor. The final shred of resistance inside her shattered.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw with desperation. “I was a thankless bitch.” She swallowed hard, her arousal and humiliation intertwining into something dark and thrilling. “Please… take care of my needs. I swear, you are my man, and please let me be your—” she exhaled shakily, the words tasting both foreign and exhilarating on her tongue, "slut.”
The confession left her lips like a sacred vow, her submission laid bare before him.
A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from Patode’s chest as he looked down at the once-defiant woman now grovelling at his feet. But he wasn’t done with her yet.
Taking her degradation a step further, he lifted his foot and placed it firmly on the back of her head, pressing her face down onto the cold, wet marble floor. Shipra gasped at the sensation—the stark contrast of warmth and chill, dominance and submission sending a fresh wave of arousal surging through her.
“That’s more like it,” Patode mused, his voice thick with approval, laced with dark amusement. His foot remained firm on the back of Shipra’s head, pressing her face against the cold, wet marble, a deliberate reminder of exactly where she belonged.
“This… this is your real position in this physical relationship, Shipra,” he continued, his tone steady, unyielding. “A desperate, unsatisfied, cheating wife who bends to my wishes. A woman so consumed by her own hunger that she will do anything—even degrade herself beyond her own morals—just to quench that burning itch inside her slutty cunt.”
His words weren’t just crude; they were merciless, stripping her bare in a way that had nothing to do with nudity. And yet, to Shipra’s utter shock, instead of humiliation, instead of shame, a new sensation flooded through her—an erotic thrill so intense, so primal, it made her thighs clench. The weight of his dominance, the sheer force of his control over her, ignited something deep inside her, something she had never felt before.
Instead of breaking her, it was awakening her.
A whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling with unfulfilled need. She should have felt degraded. Used. But instead, her arousal peaked to an unbearable height, her body teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even being touched.
“Yes… Yes, I accept it, Patode,” Shipra whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with both surrender and longing. She lifted her gaze to him, eyes wild, desperate, pleading. “Now please… I can’t bear it anymore. Please, Patode—fuck me!” she all but screamed, her desperation spilling over, breaking whatever restraint, she had left.
Patode exhaled sharply, his smirk widening. He had her. Completely.
“Very well,” he said, his tone nonchalant, as if her begging was nothing more than expected. “Let’s see what lengths you’re ready to go, Shipra.”
Without another glance at her, he lifted his foot off her head, his attention shifting to Namrata, who was still sprawled on the wet floor, her body quivering with aftershocks of pleasure. He reached down, gripping a handful of her ass, and gave it a sharp, punishing slap. Namrata moaned at the contact, arching into him like a well-trained pet.
“I’m taking this bitch to the bedroom,” he announced, his voice dripping with authority. He grabbed a towel, casually wiping himself off before tossing it toward Namrata. “Clean yourself up and join us. Watch as I push the limits of your married friend… corrupting her, degrading her—turning her into a slut so filthy, so shameless, that even you won’t recognize her.”
Shipra trembled at his words, her body humming with unbearable anticipation. She had finally surrendered, given in to the raw, aching need that had consumed her. Relief flooded her veins, her skin prickling with the thrilling promise of what was to come.
With shaky limbs, she rose from her position on the wet floor, her breathing ragged as she tried to steady herself. But just as she began to push herself up, a sharp tug at her scalp sent a gasp ripping from her lips.
A sharp gasp left her lips as he pulled her forward, forcing her to crawl behind him as he strode toward the bedroom. The message was clear—she was his to control, to command, to use as he pleased.
And as much as she had fought it before, she no longer wanted to resist.
She wanted to be owned.
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