Indian Social Worker and the Bully Ch. 02

Ten minutes later, he put me down on the floor. I got on my hands and knees. Our bodies were in perfect harmony. I arched my back and thrust my ass out like an animal in heat. He got on his knees behind me and continued where he had left off, pounding me hard.

Then, maybe as a throwback to his rough approach last time, he placed his right foot on my head and pushed it to the floor. He hammered me like that for ten minutes bringing me to another orgasm before withdrawing. I looked back at him. He nodded and sat on the couch.

I crawled towards him. Sat on the floor with my ass on my heels. Opened my mouth. And hungrily gulped down the jizz he deposited. I swallowed it all, and went to the bathroom to pee and clean myself up.

When I came back to the living room, he demanded food. I stood in the kitchen, naked except for an apron as I cooked eggs. He sat on a chair by the dining table, naked, his dick resting in preparation for the next assault. He had helped himself to a big drink of Jack Daniels from the bar cabinet.

"I thought you gave up alcohol?" I said as I cooked.

"Not...not fully given up. Just controlling. So it doesn't....hurt......." his voice trailed off as he looked confused.

"Parvati?" I helpfully added.

"Yes, of course, Parvati."

Half an hour later. We had both finished the food. The 1 liter whiskey bottle was empty. He had finished three fourths of it. And forced me to chug the remaining quarter, neat, as I sat naked in his lap, except for the apron.

We hadn't spoken a word this whole time. I was staring at my plate, trying to come to terms with the ramifications of what was happening. The bizarre depraved agreement I had implicitly made. Why had I agreed to it? Did I even have a choice? Why did my cunt feel so warm and happy?

There was a metallic clang as I pondered these questions sitting on his lap. He had pushed his plate away and it had fallen on the ground. I looked at his face. There was rage and depravity in his eyes. Drunk Lallan re-surfaced. Eyes red. And irrational anger on his face.

He got up, staggering a little as he pushed me to the floor.

"You filthy slut!"

I was on all fours, my naked butt sticking in the air, and the apron hanging loose from my torso. I tried to stand up but he put his foot on my shoulder and pushed me down.

"You are my kutiyaa (bitch), I am your maalik. (master)" he laughed and spanked me hard.

I winced as he pulled me to my feet by my hair. He spat on my face. I struggled to stay on my feet as he dragged me to the bedroom pulling my hair.

What followed next was expected, now that he had alcohol in his system again.

"WHORE!" he yelled and slapped me. Tears sprang to my eyes. "Stand there!"

I stood in the corner. He untied my apron, rolled it up, and tried to shove it down my throat before throwing it to the ground.

"Raise your hands!"

I complied, standing there naked and sobbing, but also weirdly aroused. He went to the closet and got one of my husband's belts. He fastened it around my neck like a dog's leash. First came the slaps on my boobs until they were red. Then really hard bites on my nipple. Then three fingers were thrust up my cunt.

"Just as I thought. Wetter than a filthy kutiyaa's cunt!" he spat at me again. "You like this, don't you?"

"Yes..." I whispered honestly.

Another slap.

"Speak up, bitch!"

"Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Yes...........maalik." Master.

With three fingers still roughly shoved up my cunt, he grabbed my hair, pulled it, and brought his face close to mine.

"And who are you?"

"I am your filthy kutiyaa, maalik." Bitch.

"That's right!"

I was then ordered to turn around, bend over and put my hands on the wall. Then came the angry spanks on my ass. I counted. 64 on each cheek.

Then I was laid on the bed on my side, my legs folded up. Half a bottle of moisturizer was emptied on my ass. The anal assault began. I hated myself when I had three orgasms in the next fifteen minutes as he sodomized me while playing with my clit. Then it was my cunt's turn as I was made to ride him. And then fucked in the ass again doggy style until he deposited his seed inside it.

When I came back from the bathroom after a long time cleaning myself, he had opened a bottle of vodka. He pulled me on to his lap and shoved the bottle in my hand. We finished it in ten minutes.

The rest of the night was a blur again as my blood alcohol level crossed my tolerance. A dream and a nightmare. We fucked at least 3 more times that I can recall. I was slapped and spanked and spat on. The belt around my neck was tightened a few times almost to the point of choking me unconscious. And the orgasms I had probably numbered in the dozens. The more roughly he treated me, the harder I came. I hated it, but that's how it was.

I woke up to the sound of chirping birds. I opened my eyes. The sunlight stung. It took me a few moments again to realize where I was. Curled up naked on the roof of my own house, with an empty jute sack on top of me. There was a bowl of water next to me this time, like for an actual bitch. The other end of my belt leash was tied around a water pipe. I had no memory of how I ended up there. The last thing I remembered was being humped in front of the bathroom mirror at around 4 AM while he pulled on the belt.

I sat up. Untied the belt. The sun was high enough for it to be close to noon. Thankfully, Lallan had shown the mercy of putting me in a corner of the roof that couldn't be seen from the other houses around us. At least not directly. The tall buildings were a different matter. I stared at the balconies again and tried to make out if I could see any obvious viewers. I couldn't.

Once my eyes got used to the sunlight, I picked up the sack and held it in front of me to cover my nakedness. Peeked around the wall. Luckily the other roofs were still empty. I scampered through the door and started walking down the stairs. My ass hurt, my thighs hurt. My face hurt. My boobs hurt. But my cunt felt.....satisfied.

I walked downstairs gingerly in case he was still around. The house was empty.

There was a note on the kitchen table scrawled in Hindi.

"Next month."