During our courtship, I had come to know that Shilpa was always considered a talented painter, but because her family was not very well off financially, she could not pursue her dream of becoming an artist too seriously. Since I earned more than enough for us to live lavishly, I suggested that after marriage, Shilpa should quit the dead-end receptionist job and work on her art, something she was delighted to do. So Shilpa would stay at home, do household chores, and attend painting lessons at a local college three days a week. Although she was always a good artist, I saw the lessons make a difference as her art evolved from a competent-but-amateur level to more sophisticated.
We lived in a big house that used to belong to my late parents, so we converted the store room into her “studio”, with paints, brushes, canvases, easels, and everything. Shilpa spent most of the day in her studio painting some thing or the other, and soon the houses in our walls were adorned with a lot of different landscapes and still life paintings.
Then her lessons moved on to the final phase – portraits. To complete her course and have her paintings displayed in the college exhibition, she had to draw a life-sized portrait of someone. Her first choice was me, but the subject would have to sit in front of her for hours, for days at end, and my work hours as a sales managers were demanding and erratic. So Shilpa reluctantly agreed that I could not be a subject. She started asking some of her other friends, and some of or relatives, but they were either too busy or lived too far away to come to our house and sit in Shilpa’s studio very often.
Finally Shilpa had run out of all possible options and was getting very distraught, when one evening I said to her,
“Hey, what about Balram uncle?”
“Who is Balram uncle again?” Shilpa asked with a furrowed brow.
“He is an old family friend of ours who lives down the street. You remember that big green bungalow on the corner?” I said.
“He lives there alone. He is retired, his wife is no more, and his kids are all in the US. I am sure he will be free and willing to help you out.”
“Hmmm…but Arun” Shilpa countered, “Just his being free isn’t enough. He should also make a good subject lookswise, you know.”
“Well, he is no Adonis…” I said.
“No, I don’t mean he should be handsome or good looking. He should look…oh how do I explain…. never mind. I’ll see him and decide.” she said.
“You know, he was at our wedding. But since we had so many guests, you might have forgotten his name.” I said, getting up, “Let me get our wedding album and show you.”
I went to the shelf, got our wedding album, flipped the pages until I reached a picture of us with Balram uncle, and showed it to Shilpa.
“See, he is no Greek god.” I said as Shilpa studied the picture. And he wasn’t. Balram uncle was almost bald, dark skinned, short, with a big paunch and stubby legs.
“Yeah… I didn’t want a Greek god but this man is… well… no offence since he is your family friend, but he is ugly.” Shilpa said with her nose crinkled.
“Hahaha.” I laughed. “Yeah, I know. You should have seen his late wife. So pretty and graceful even in her older days. Me and the other guys in the neighborhood had a crush on her, and always wondered how he managed to bag her.”
“Hehe, anyway, I’ll continue looking for other subjects.”
Shilpa looked and asked and requested and pleaded. But she wasn’t able to get any commitment. And days were passing by fast. So finally one day she came to me and said,
“You know Arun, looks like I have no choice but to go with your Balram uncle. If I don’t start painting soon, I won’t get enough days to finish the painting by the deadline.”
“Okay, but what about his ugliness?” I asked, with a smile.
“Hehe. Maybe I’ll call it the picture of Dorian Gray towards the end.” Shilpa joked.
That night we both went over to Balram uncle’s house. He was a family friend, but more close to my parents, so ever since they had passed away, I had not met him too regularly. In fact only once, when i went to invite him for the wedding. So he was happy to see me. We spoke about this and that. He asked us about how our married life was. Other small talk. And then I broached the subject of Shilpa’s portrait. When I asked him he started laughing,
“Me? A portrait of me? Are you two pulling my leg? I am an ugly old man.” he guffawed.
“No no Balram uncle, nothing like that. You are very distinguished looking. Isn’t he, Shilpa?” I said.
“Yes yes.” Shilpa said politely, “In fact you are an ideal subject for a portrait with your unconventional looks.”
“Haha, you are obviously being polite, but never mind. Sure I’ll do it. I don’t have much to do all day anyway. I just hang out with some other retired friends, read books, watch TV, and that’s it. Modeling for a portrait sounds interesting. When should I come over?”
“Any time during the day is fine. You have our home phone number. This is my cellphone number.” Shilpa said, giving him a card.
And so the portrait painting started. He always came over in the afternoons when I was hardly home. A couple of times he came over on weekends too, and he and Shilpa were in the studio while I watched TV or napped. The social ties between us improved a lot too. He would come over for dinner or tea, and sometimes invite us over to his house. Shilpa and Balram uncle seemed to have a pretty good rapport.
I would check out the portrait every day, and it seemed to be coming along very well. It looked good…. well as good as a subject matter like Balram uncle could be painted. Finally, a couple of weeks later, the painting was done. It was submitted, displayed in the 2-day exhibition, and Shilpa got her course completion certificate with the grade A. And Shilpa decided to take a month long break from painting.
So far so good, right?
Now we come to an afternoon a week or so after the exhibition. I had gone on a sales call very close to my house, and by the time it got done, it was 1 pm. As I was driving back, I realized I was very hungry, so I decided to head home for lunch and then go back to the office. I thought of calling up Shilpa, but the police in our city had become very strict in fining drivers who talk on the phone while driving, so I decided to just send her a short SMS instead – “cmng home fr lnch 2day”. After I sent the SMS, I realized I was just five minutes away from home, and if Shilpa was taking a nap as she often did in the afternoons, there was a good chance I’d reach home before she even read it.
I got home, and parked the car on the street instead of inside our garage, since I would have to leave after lunch anyway. Locked the car, grabbed my lunchbox, and walked towards my house. I opened the gate, walked to the door, and unlocked it using my key and stepped inside. I thought of calling out Shilpa, but the house was silent, so I assumed she might be taking a nap. I coed the door quietly, and walked to the kitchen, to warm my lunch.
As I stood there, I heard a sound of feet approaching and some voices. I was about to walk out of the kitchen when suddenly,
“Okay, go now, please.” I heard Shilpa say in a worried voice “Arun can get home any minute.”
I heard that and instinctively moved sideways, behind the wall, so I was not visible. Who was she telling to go and why was she worried about my getting home, was the question that popped into my head.
“Yes, I am going, but you owe me!” that was Balram uncle’s voice, I realized.
“Yes, ok, fine. Go now! I beg you!” Shilpa said in a pleading voice. I heard the door open.
“Balram!!!” she suddenly said in a raised voice and I thought to myself – just Balram? No Balram uncle? At this point I could not help myself and I strode out of the kitchen. I saw them and they saw me. I don’t know which one of us was more shocked and alarmed.
Here’s what I saw. My wife was standing at the door, wearing just a t-shirt and shorts. Balram uncle was at the door, dressed in a shirt and knee-length shorts, one foot outside, one foot inside, and both his hands on my wife’s boobs. As I walked out their eyes turned to me, and got as big as saucers.
“What’s going on?” I said in a raised voice and started advancing towards them.
Balram uncle immediately took his hands off Shilpa’s chest and walked away, or should I say ran, towards the gate. I ran to the door and shouted,
“Wait, you son of a bitch!”, but he was already running down the street. For a moment I contemplated running after him, catching him and beating the shit out of him. But that’s when I felt Shilpa’s hand on my shoulder.
“Arun.” she said in a trembling voice.
I turned around, furious and looked at her,
“What??” I yelled.
“Arun, please…. I am sorry… just calm down.” she said.
“Calm down? Calm down??” I yelled, shaking her hand off my shoulder. “What the fuck was happening here? What is this? How…”
I fell silent, feeling my rage overcome me. Shilpa looked at me with tears in her eyes and tried to hug me. I pushed her away, and yelled again,
“Please Arun, close the door. The neighbors…” she said.
I banged the door shut very loudly and glowered at her. I now noticed something else. The outline of her boobs and her nipples was visible through her t-shirt. She was not wearing a bra! She noticed me noticing, and immediately folded her hands in front of her boobs, as if it was any use now. I was still shaking with anger, just standing there.
“Arun, please… sit down. Calm down. I’ll tell you everything.” she said, pulling me towards the couch.
I walked with her and sat down on the couch. Again, she tried to hug me, but I pushed her away.
“Alright, I want to know…” I started talking when suddenly, my cellphone started ringing. Out of habit I took it out of my pocket and immediately answered it,
“Hello.” I said, suddenly wishing that I had just ignored it and let it go to voicemail.
“Arun, this is Shastri from BTL Systems. We just met a few minutes ago? I think we can finalize the whole deal today.” the voice from the other end said.
“OK….” I said, still a bit dazed.
“Yes, I just have a couple of clarifications about your proposal. If you have it with you, could you turn to page 9?” he said.
For a moment I considered making some excuse and hanging up. But the sales guy in me realized the importance of this call. This was an account I had been trying to win over for almost two years. And finally I was about to succeed. Maybe I should talk to him.
“Yes, Mr. Shastri, just a minute, it is in the next room. Please stay on the line.” I said and got up from the couch. Shot Shilpa a dirty look, and went to the kitchen where I had left my bag. I took out a copy of the proposal, and started referring to where Shastri wanted me to look. Then there were other clarifications and some negotiations. The whole call lasted about 20 minutes. By the time it got done, Shastri was convinced and was going to fax the order to my office.
Done with the phone, I came out to the living room again. Shilpa was sitting there on the couch with a sullen look on her face. I noticed that while I was on the phone, she had changed out of the shorts and into jeans, and had put a bra on under her t-shirt. My temper had cooled down a lot by now, but I was still upset. I went and sat next to her.
“Okay, talk.” I said.
“Arun, I am so sorry. I know how it looks. And I have made a mistake. But it is not as bad as it seems.” Shilpa said.
“Not as bad? What does that mean?” I asked.
“I mean, you might be assuming certain things. It’s not like that. I made a mistake, and I won’t make it again. Please forgive me.” she said, again on the verge of tears.
“I don’t get it. Explain.” I said.
“I mean I have crossed some lines, for which I am sorry. But I haven’t crossed other lines, and never would have.” Shilpa said, starting to cry. I sighed, and sat back, looking at her.
“Has he fucked you?” I asked in a calm voice.
“No! Come on, how can you even think that?” Shilpa said, crying even harder.
“OK. Then, have you sucked his dick?” I went on.
“Arun!!! No!!!” she said.
“OK, what then?” I exploded “I catch my wife, braless, with an old man fondling her boobs, and her wanting him to go before I come home. It’s clear you two weren’t playing chess! What happened then? What lines have you crossed? Has he gone down on you?”
“No, no no no!” she said and started crying harder. I sighed with frustration and said,
“You’d better start at the beginning. When did this start? When did it go past him being just a subject for your portrait?”
Shilpa wiped her eyes, and stopped crying, or rather brought her crying down to a lower level.
“It is tough to exactly say when it started. I guess it started towards the end of my painting him. By then we had developed a good rapport and we started talking about a lot of things…. personal things. He also started paying me a lot of compliments. And he can be very charming. I also noticed that a lot of times, when he thought I wasn’t looking, he’d check me out.”
“Check you out?” I asked.
“Yes, like when I turned around and bent to pick something up, I could see from the corner of my eye that he was staring at my ass. Or if I was wearing something with a slightly revealing neckline, I’d notice him check out my boobs.”
“Okay, and you liked that?” I asked. She stayed silent. “Well, did you?”
“Yeah, it felt nice being admired by an older man. Made me feel special. Reminded me of the days when I used to work and guys would shower me with attention all the time.” she said.
“Okay, so what next? How did it reach the stage that I saw today.” I asked.
“Well, after I noticed him looking, I guess I started teasing him.” she said.
“Teasing him. How?” I asked.
“I’d bend over a lot even when not needed. I’d stay bent for a longer time.” she said.
“Wait, what were you wearing when you bent over so much?”
“Initially, I’d wear jeans or trackpants or loose knee-length shorts, and t-shirts. You know, the clothes I usually paint in. But then…..” she paused. “… then I started wearing… smaller shorts, and loose skirts and tank tops and….” she paused again “and halter tops.”
“You painted wearing skirts and halter tops? How come I never noticed it?” I asked.
“I always changed before you got home.” she admitted.
“Okay… so how did he react to your change in clothing?”
“He seemed to like it. He stared longer, and would often fidget and seem uncomfortable.”
“Tell me when you crossed what you think was the first line.” I asked.
She looked towards the ceiling, as if trying to remember. Then she looked down towards her knees and said in a low voice,
“With the thongs.”
“I’m sorry…what?” I could not believe what I had just heard. Shilpa hardly ever wore thongs. she said they rode up her ass crack and made her feel uncomfortable. So she only wore them on occasions that she wore formal trousers or skirts, to avoid panty lines.
“I started wearing thongs… with those tiny skirts you like.” she said. I knew the tiny skirts. They were quite small, about six inches above the knee, and pleated. I always loved how one got a glimpse of her panties when she bent. But she had never worn them with thongs.
“Ok… so he…must have liked it?” I asked.
“Yes. In fact…. he liked it a little too much.” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“After I bent over a few times to pick up stuff from the ground, I noticed a bulge forming in his pants. He was me notice, and tried to hide it with his hands. And looked very embarrassed.”
“He got an erection?”
“Yes. And that made me feel even more…..bold.” she said.
“What did you do? Did you take it out of his pants?” I hissed.
“No!! Come on Arun!! I just…. I went close to him using the excuse of having him change his pose. And then…” she stopped.
“Then I dropped my brushes which were in my hand, in front of him on purpose. And I bent over to pick them up. The skirt rode up and my thong-covered ass was right in front of him.”
That’s when I realized, with a shock, that I felt a twitch in my cock. The image of my sexy wife in a tiny skirt and a thong, revealing her ass to an old man was turning me on.
“And then..” she continued, “..he touched it.”
“While I was bent over….. he reached out with his hand and touched it. I was….surprised that he took the liberty and I just froze like that, bent, in shock.”
“Really? In shock or to tease him further?” I asked. She ignored my question and continued,
“After a few seconds I got up and asked him what he was doing. He started apologizing, and said he was sorry. He had gotten carried away. I got angry and told him to leave at once. And he did.”
‘Then he called me up after a while saying he was sorry and could he come over and explain his mistake. I said OK. So he came over, and said he was a lonely man, and had not had any female companionship since his wife died. And he enjoyed looking at me, because I was pretty. And liked the revealing clothes I wore. That it made him feel young again. But he should have just limited himself to watching, and not touched me.”
“OK….what next? Clearly things progressed further.” I asked.
“No. That’s it. After that I stopped teasing him. And nothing happened. The painting got over. And today I was just taking a nap, when he came in, saying he had been missing me. I was trying to get rid of him. Then I got your SMS. And you saw what happened. That’s it.” she said and fell silent.
I stared at her for a few minutes and said,
“No, I am not!” she protested.
“Yes, you are. I can see it from your face. You are lying. Something more happened. Tell me honestly, Shilpa. Or I swear, I’m filing for divorce.” I growled.
“Arun, please, why do you want to know all these details? I have told you the main thing. I made a mistake by teasing him. He felt me up a little. can’t we leave it at that?” she said.
“No, what other lines did you cross? Why did he say you owed him?” I asked.
“That’s the only line, of teasing him and letting him touch me. Even if he touched me more later, why does it matter? It won’t happen again!” she said, raising her voice.
“I want to know!” I said.
“You asshole!” she hissed, “You just want to know because it is turning you on, isn’t it? You are one of those men who enjoy the idea of their wife being a slut? Which is why you hope he fucked me? Is that it?”
“What? No!” I said.
“Then what is that?” she said, pointing at my bulging crotch. Sure enough, the twitch I had felt in my cock had now turned into an erection. “Please Arun. I said I am sorry. I told you the main thing. If you want to divorce me, fine. But I am not talking about this any more. It’s over.”
She got up, ran to the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. I sat there, wordlessly, unsure of what to do. Two things were sure. I loved her. And that whatever she had done had turned me on. As I thought more about it, I remembered how I always loved it when we went out together and other guys checked her out. Sometimes, she got propositioned when she was out, and she’d tell me about it jokingly. I had liked those stories too. So what was I to do about this situation?
If it had been limited to just teasing and some fondling, I guess it was fine. But was that it? Was she lying? I needed to find out. So I stood up, left the house and walked down the street to confront Balram uncle. I tried to remain calm. I did not want to create a big scene. Just verify a few things.
In a couple of minutes, I was ringing his doorbell. The door was opened by his man-servant.
“Can I see Balram uncle?” I asked.
“Sahib just left.” he said.
“When will he be back?” I asked.
“Don’t know. He asked me to pack a bag for him, and said he was going to his sister’s place in Calcutta for a few days.”
I turned around and started walking back. Balram uncle, unable to face me, had fled town. I wondered when he would come back. But until he did, I had no way to verify if Shilpa was telling the whole truth. I went home and Shilpa was still locked in the bedroom. I could hear her sobbing. I knocked on the door asking her to come out, but she asked me to leave her alone. And I did.
After that I started getting calls from clients and I got busy with them. I called up my secretary and told her I’d be working from home. I sat on the dining table, opened my laptop and got busy answer emails from clients. A couple of hours later, Shilpa came out of the bedroom and came to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and drinking it asked me,
“Do you want some tea?”
“Yes.” I answered, still looking at my laptop screen.
She made tea, we drank it silently. Then I worked some more as she started cooking dinner. The whole day went without too many words being exchanged between us.
Then one night, when Shilpa came to bed, dressed in her usual sleeping garb, a t-shirt without a bra and shorts. She put her head on my chest and hugged me. This was her usual way sign for saying she wanted to have sex. We had not had sex since the day of the revelations. This would be the first time. I rolled her over and started kissing her. We kissed for a few minutes, and then I took her t-shirt off and started playing with her boobs. Licking and biting her nipples like she loved, I had gotten her turned on, and she started breathing heavily.
That’s when I said,
“Um hmm?” she moaned.
“I want to ask you something if you promise not to get upset.” I said.
She stayed silent for a few seconds, sighed and then said,
“Tell me about the first time he touched your boobs.” I said and started playing with her nipples again. She moaned, ran her fingers through my hair and said,
“What?” I asked, looking around, but the lights were on.
“There was a power cut. And it was a hot day.” she said.
“I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. With a bra, before you ask.”
“How many days was this after he felt up your ass for the first time?”
She paused a little and said,
“Maybe 3-4 days.”
“Had he been feeling you up on subsequent days too?”
“No. I stopped wearing skirts after that. Wore either jeans or shorts.” she answered.
“Okay, so there was a power cut. Then?”
She took a deep breath and said,
“It was getting very hot and we were both sweating. He asked me what part of the portrait I was working on, and I said his face. So he asked me if it was OK if he took off his shirt, because he was feeling very hot. I said OK, and he took his shirt off.”
“Revealing his huge paunch?” I asked, now kissing her neck.
“Then,” she continued “I continued painting. But it really was hot. So he said this is a very unfair world, because men can go topless any time, but women can’t. And he said how drenched my t-shirt was with sweat. Then he said I should take it off if I wanted. He promised he wouldn’t do anything. I said no, it was OK, but he insisted politely. Finally I though, what the heck. It was very hot, and I was wearing a bra anyway. So I took the t-shirt off.”
“And he saw your bra-covered tits?” I asked, sliding her shorts off.
“So how did he touch them?”
“I am coming to that.” she said, pushing my pyjamas down. “The bra was drenched too and sticking against my skin, so I had to keep adjusting it. That’s when he said I should take it off too. I said no thanks. And he said, take it off, make this old man’s day. said he hadn’t seen young women’s breasts in decades. He also said he had seen parts of me much more private anyway. So why be ashamed about the breasts?”
“Hmmmm” I said as I entered his sopping wet pussy with my hard cock.
“Ummm.” Shilpa said, reacting to my entry, and continued. “But I said or did nothing. So he got off the chair he was sitting on, came close to me. I didn’t say anything. Just stood like that. He stepped behind me and with one flick of his fingers, unhooked my bra. Ahhhhh.”
She moaned louder as I started pumping her harder.
“Go on.” I said throatily.
“He then pulled the bra and threw it on the floor, turned me around with his hands on my shoulder. And saw my boobs. He stared at them for a few seconds and then touched them. I wanted to stop him, but I felt what harm could a little feel do?”
She said all this with grunts and pauses in between because now I was fucking her in full earnest.
“What did he do? Describe it for me.” I said in between strokes.
“He fondled them, pressed them………. kissed them, licked them. Ahhh ohhhh..” she started yelling as her orgasm hit. usually, Shilpa didn’t make any noises in bed even when she came. So her moans and her narration drove me over the edge too. We both came together, shaking and quaking in each others arms.
Then we lay together like that, wrapped around each other for a few minutes. Finally I spoke.
“What?” she said.
“How long did he play with your boobs?”
“Maybe five minutes. And then the power came back on. So I told him to stop or else. And he did.”
“Didn’t you feel aroused?” I asked.
“No.” she said a little too quickly.
“Shilpa!” I said questioningly.
“Well…” she said.
“I know how sensitive your boobs are. It is impossible that you did not feel aroused.” I said.
“Yes, I did.”
“Well.” she said, “I went to bathroom and masturbated.”
“I am gonna go clean up.” she said and went to the bathroom to clean my semen from her pussy.
As I heard the water running in the bathroom, a bee was buzzing in my bonnet. What was it? What was I having trouble putting my finger on? It was something she said that didn’t sound quite right.
Then as I saw her step out of the bathroom naked, it hit me.
“Shilpa.” I said.
“Yes, Arun?” she replied, wiping her crotch with a towel.
“Why did he say he had seen parts of you much more private than your boobs?” I asked.
“You said that when he was convincing you to take your bra off, he said he had seen parts of you that were more private than your boobs anyway. So why be ashamed about the breasts? What did that mean?”
“Umm… I don’t know.” she said. “Maybe he meant my ass-cheeks.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“…..yes” she paused before answering.
“You paused. You’re lying, aren’t you, Shilpa?”
She didn’t say anything, just glared at me.
“Arun, will you please stop this cross-examination?” she said.
“Shilpa, listen to me. I promise you, I won’t divorce you or anything. I am not as upset by whatever you did with him, as I am by your lying. Just be honest with me.” I said.
“Arun, stop doing this to me. No good will come of it. Why do you want these details?” she said angrily.
“I just want to know the whole truth. Is that too much to ask?” I asked.
“Trust me Arun, it will only make you angrier. Let sleeping dogs lie. I am not saying anything else” she said, put her clothes back on, and got into bed. She then closed her eyes and turned away from me.
“He fucked you, didn’t he? That’s why you won’t tell me the whole truth?” I said.
She turned around, looked at me angrily and said,
“No! No! No! He did not.” she said
“Then just tell me what happened. Tell me the whole truth.” I said.
“OK fine. You want the whole truth. Here’s the whole truth.” she paused, took a deep breath and continued, “When I was teasing him with thongs under the skirt, he still didn’t touch me. He looked, he even commented. But I always said no touching. Since he was listening to me, I got bolder. So one day I wore a short skirt without wearing any panties. And then bent in front of him, and he said I was showing him everything. So I pretended that I had just forgotten to wear them. That it wasn’t intentional.”
“So did you..” I started to say.
“Don’t interrupt. Let me finish. So i said it was accidental. But I still kept bending over, and didn’t put any panties on. The next day when I was doing the same thing, he go up, and started touching my butt. And my pussy. And my clit. When he started putting his finger in my pussy, I told him to stop, and he did.”
She took a pause for breath and continued,
“The next day is when the power cut happened. That day too, I was wearing a skirt without panties. And then the rest of it that I told you happened. That’s why he said he had seen parts more private. And convinced me to go topless.”
“Is that everything?” I asked.
“No. After I got topless and he played with my boobs, in a few minutes, he started fingering me too. I told you I went to the bathroom to masturbate. That was a lie. I let him finger fuck me. In between, he took my skirt off too, and I was standing there, naked as he finger fucked me. And he made me cum.”
“And?” I asked.
“And not too much, although I see this is all turning you on.” she said, touching my erect cock. “After that I felt guilty, so I told him to go away. He said that was not fair and that I should help him cum, but I refused. He started unbuttoning his pants to take his cock out, but I said if he did, I would scream and call the police. So he left.”
She paused and continued,
“That was the last day. After that I told him not to come over, since I could finish the painting without him. He’s been calling me up since, saying “you owe me”, that because he fingered me to an orgasm, I owe him an orgasm too. That’s what he meant when he said I owed him. But I kept putting him off. then that day, he came to the house, and tried to convince me, but I refused. And I told him to go. That is it. The whole truth. End of story!”
I stared at her with a mix of anger and excitement. These newer details had angered me for sure. She had let some dirty old man see her fully naked, and even finger her pussy. But the same facts also turned me on beyond belief. My cock was harder than ever. And only minutes after we last had sex.
Shilpa sat up, took her tshirt and shorts off, and got on top of me, staring at me angrily. Positioning herself so her pussy was just above my cock she said,
“Well, now that you got me to tell the whole story, don’t you want to fuck your slut of a wife? What are you waiting for?”
I put my hands on her waist and pulled her down hard, penetrating her pussy with my cock. And we made love, no, we fucked each other, for the second time that night. And then two more times. And then once more after waking up I had finished a sales call and reached the office at 6 pm. I usually didn’t stay in office that late, but the order had to be entered into the system that day for a discount to apply. I went to my desk, and was entering the order in our complicated system when I heard peals of laughter and clapping sounds coming from the conference room next to my office. Already annoyed, the incessant noise ticked me off. So I knocked on the conference room door.
It was opened very slightly and Rahul, one of my colleagues opened the door.
“Rahul, will you guys keep it down?” I said.
“Arun!! Come in, come in. Something nice to show you.” he chuckled.
“No dude, later. Have an order to…” I protested, but Rahul grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room and closed the door.
“Come on, man. Trust me, Here we have exactly what you need after a long day of sales calls.”
I looked around. There were three other sales guys at the other end of the room, crowded around a laptop.
“What’s going on?” I asked, approaching them. One of them pointed to the screen. It was some sort of a porn video. I looked away at once and continued “Guys, are you crazy? This violates so many policies! Porn in office? You’ll get fired if someone catches you.”
“Policy schmolicy, man.” the guy whose laptop it was said. “Lighten up a bit. It’s not like we are broadcasting it to the ladies. We are in a conference room after hours.”
“Do what you want. I am leaving. I want to part of this.” I said and turned to leave.
“At least look at the body of this babe. I wonder how ugly men like these get hotties like her.” he said turning the screen in my direction.
I looked back reflexively, and stopped in my tracks after I saw the screen. The guy turned the screen around and I walked towards him and behind him to watch the screen.
“Haha, even Mr. Goody Two Shoes Arun is enchanted.” another guy slapped me on the back and laughed.
Enchanted? Horrified was the word. Here’s what was playing on the screen – A short dark thin man was sitting on a couch. In front of him on the floor, was a naked woman with a very hot body, on her knees, with her back to the camera. From the movement of her head, it was clear she was giving the man a blowjob. Someone else was shooting this. Still visible on the wall behind the couch, was what had made me stop in my tracks first.
It was a huge but yellowing map of the city. Ever since I was a child, I had seen that map of the city in a living room in my neighborhood. When I went there as a kid with some friends, we’d always try to find our college on the map. I also knew that maps of the city this size were not commonly available in the market. The owner of that house had gotten it specially made, because he thought it was a novel way to decorate a wall.
Now of course, it was possible that two people might have the same idea. That two people might have huge maps of the city on their living room walls. But it was almost impossible that two people would have the same servant. Because the short thin dark man sitting on the couch, getting a blowjob from a woman whose face wasn’t visible, was the same servant who had told me many times recently “Don’t know when Balram sahib is coming back from Calcutta.”
The blowjob continued for a few more seconds, when a voice said off-camera
“Time for a close-up. Do you mind if I take a close-up, Mangal?” and laughed.
Mangal, the servant replied,
“No, sahib, no problem. Whatever you wish.”
As he said that, the woman spoke without looking back,
“Don’t you dare take a close-up, Balram. I told you my condition for this clip, my face shouldn’t appear.”
That’s when one of the sales guys watching the clip with me said,
“What a bitch. Doesn’t mind showing the rest of her body naked, but won’t show her face?” and everyone laughed.
“Don’t worry, my dear.” Balram’s voice said, “I will shoot it in a way that your full face isn’t seen. Only your luscious lips around the cock. And you can delete the clip afterwards if you aren’t satisfied.”
The woman on screen was about to say something when Mangal caught her head and held it down saying,
“You talk too much. Shut up and keep sucking. Trust sahib.”
And only muffled moans of protest were heard. The camera started moving closer.
“First we take a close-up of her ass.” the voice on the screen said as camera zoomed in on the ass, displaying a mole on the left buttcheek that pretty much shot to bits any hopes I had of this not being my wife. “Now the pussy” and he moved the camera under her pussy, giving a dark-lit shot that didn’t show it too clear, “Now her boobs” he said showing my wife’s luscious boobs bouncing against Mangal’s knees, “and now, the lips and the cock.” And the camera moved upwards.
My heart almost stopped as I dreaded the worst. Her full face would be visible. All these sales guys knew my wife. She had worked here after all. They had set me up for humiliation. They were going to laugh at me for being a cuckold. And spread the news all over the office.
These thoughts raced through my mind as the camera slowly moved upwards, but before it could reach the face, it was yanked from Balram’s hand. By my wife. And thrown to the side. All that was visible for the next few seconds was the ceiling, and then the video stopped.
“Feisty little bitch!” Rahul said.
“Where did you get this?” I asked the guy who owned the laptop.
“Some friend forwarded it to me with a bunch of other clips. Liked it, didn’t you?” he said. I stayed silent, hoping that no one had recognized Shilpa’s voice. No one seemed to have. He continued, “You should watch the whole thing. It’s twenty minutes long.”
“Awesome video. The worst part though, is that she doesn’t show her face at all. And speaks only at the end.” another guy piped up. “Wonder what she charges for a night, man.”
“How do you know she is a prostitute? Maybe she is just some desperate housewife.” Rahul asked.
“Impossible, dude. A hot bitch like her can get any man she wants. Why would she give blowjobs to an old fat guy and his servant? She has to be one of those high class whores….25,000 rupees a night types.”
“Maybe. But then if she was a whore, why didn’t she actually fuck anyone? All we saw was oral sex.” Rahul countered.
“Maybe she didn’t fuck them on camera.” the guy said.
By now my head was spinning.
“Guys, I’ve got to go.” I said and walked out of the conference room.
It had been almost three weeks since Shilpa told me “the whole truth”. Or as this clip made it clear, more lies. Our sex life had improved beyond recognition. We had talked it out, she had apologized, and things were kinda normal. Or so I thought. And suddenly the whole pretense had all come crashing down.
I quietly entered the order in the system as I thought about the situation. I had to confront her. Maybe even divorce her. But I needed to know the actual truth. And I could not trust her to give it to me.
Half an hour later, I was sitting in the seedy office of a “Detective Agency” I had found using the yellow pages. One that ensured “contractual confidentiality”. A few minutes later, a heavy-set middle-aged woman dressed in a saree came inside and sat on the chair behind the desk.
“So, what can I do for you, Mr…” she said.
“Arun.” I said.
“Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Arun?” she asked.
“No offence, but can I speak to the boss?” I said.
She put her elbows on the table, smiled at me and said,
“I am the boss. My name is Salma. This detective agency belongs to me.”
“Oh.” I said, getting up. “I am sorry, but I think I’d prefer some other agency.”
Just as I reached for the door, I heard Salma say,
“Think your wife is cheating on you?”
I turned around, surprised and said,
“How did you…”
“I can guess. Can’t think of any other matter you’d feel uncomfortable discussing with a woman.” she said.
I stood there, unsure of what to say, She continued,
“You can walk out the door if you want, Mr. Arun. But wouldn’t you trust a detective agency headed by a woman to handle this issue more sensitively and discreetly than a man?”
Mutely, I sat down.
“So tell me, what makes you suspect she is cheating on you?” she asked.
And I started talking. And talking. And talking. It felt good to talk about this with someone. Felt like a load off my chest. I told her the whole story, starting with the portrait sessions, and ending with the video clip. After I stopped talking almost twenty minutes later, Salma, who had listened in silence, said,
“Mr. Arun, you already know your wife is cheating on you. Why are you wasting money by hiring us?”
“I need to know. I need to know the whole truth.” I said.
“Why?” she pressed on.
“I just do.”
“Alright. you’re the client. Your wish is my command. But take the advice of a woman who has seen hundreds of such cases. The truth will only hurt you. And you are already very hurt. Just leave her. Move on with your life. I can find out the absolute truth. But it is not going to help anyone. All you will buy by paying me my fees, is more misery for yourself” she said in a very kind voice.
“I need to know.” I repeated like a stuck record.
“Fine, as you say.”
I gave her the details like my address, Balram’s address, a picture of Shilpa that I always carried in my wallet, and a cheque for the advance. And I left for home.
When I got home, Shilpa was watching the TV. I came in, and she kissed me. From my body language in barely returning that kiss, she sensed something was wrong.
“What happened? Bad day at work?” she asked.
“You could say that.” I replied and walked to the couch.
“Lost an important account?” she asked.
“Worse. Lost any trust I had in my wife.” I replied calmly, sitting down on the couch. Shilpa stared at me, mouth agape,
“What now?” she finally asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me the whole truth like I asked you to?” I asked.
“I did.” she said tentatively.
“Well, I have proof that you didn’t. That you left out something. And that you crossed some more lines.” I said.
“What? That’s not true.” she protested.
“Shilpa, I swear I am sick of your lies. Now I know for a fact that you have lied to me.” I said.
“On what basis do you say that?” she asked.
“I am not revealing that. Or else you will alter the truth on the basis of what I know and again lie to me. Let’s just saw I know everything. Now tell me. And remember, if I catch a single lie, I am throwing you out of the house right now and calling a lawyer for a divorce.”
“Arun!! Please!!” she said.
“Shut up!” I yelled. “Start talking. And remember, if you lie and I catch it, based on what I know, you are out of this house.”
Shilpa just sat there, staring at me. The conniving bitch, I thought to myself. I always thought she was an innocent clean-hearted lady. And yet she had been brazenly and confidently lying to me.
“Arun, I am sorry. Please don’t make us go through this again.” she pleaded.
“Maybe I should help you start talking. I am going to ask you some questions. Yes or No. And if you lie to even one of them, this marriage is over. Keep telling the truth and we still might salvage something.” I said.
She said nothing. I continued.
“Ok. First question, did you give Balram a blowjob?”
“Yes.” she said flatly.
“More than once?” I asked.
“Did he fuck you?” I asked.
She stayed silent, clearly thinking. Like a poker player trying to guess the cards of someone who has gone all in.
“Did he fuck you?” I repeated.
Finally, she decided to fold.
“Yes.” she replied.
And there it was. Confirmed. I had no evidence of it from the video clip, but she had admitted it. My shoulders sagged.
“I am sorry, Arun.” she whispered.
“I am not done yet. Have you fucked anyone apart from me since I caught you with Balram that day?” I asked.
“Shilpa, are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes, I am sure. I am not lying, Arun. Since that day, I have been faithful.” she said.
“OK, before that, was Balram the only one or did he have someone else with him?” I asked.
“You already know it all. Why are you asking me?” she said.
“Answer me.” I said.
“Yes.” she said.
“Name?” I asked.
Shambhu? Who the hell was Shambhu? I thought to myself. Nevertheless I continued.
“And? Who else?”
“Gurmeet.” she said.
“And? Who else??” I asked.
“No one else.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She paused and looked at me confused.
“Well, I guess technically Savitri too.”
“Savitri? Our maid?” I asked. This was all getting too much. I had come home expecting her to admit to fucking Balram and his servant Mangal, but there were two other guys and our maid involved too.
“Yes…… you didn’t know?” she asked, surprised.
“Who else?” I asked.
“Wait!” she said. “Do you mean just having actual sex or…….other stuff too?”
I slumped back in the couch, unable to take it any more.
“Shilpa…. just start at the beginning. And tell me the whole truth this time.”
“Some of what I told you before is true. Except that Balram wasn’t as shy and reluctant as I made him out to be. He is very talkative and charming. And has a way with words. And because he doesn’t look that great, his skills at conversation and manipulating are even more surprising and caught me off-guard.”
“Right from the first day, he talked a lot. Told me about himself, his family, his dead wife, his kids. Asked me about myself. Where I grew up, what I did, how I met you and all that. The conversation flowed very naturally. Then he started talking about his wife a lot. How he missed her. How she was a lovely woman.”
“What else did he say about her?” I asked.
“Well, a lot of things, but the relevant part was when he talked about how graceful she was…. and how she dressed.”
“How she dressed?” I asked.
“Yes, he said she was always dressed smartly, in skirts, shorts, tops and everything. How she had a good body and wasn’t shy in flaunting it. Even in her older years. Not like all other Indian women who start dressing frumpily after they get married. I obviously said, not all Indian women. He said, yes, all, even me. I laughed and asked what he was talking about? And he said every day he was me wearing trackpants, loose jeans, loose shorts, t-shirts… as if I was trying to hide my body. And I protested saying, that’s not true. I dress that way when I paint for comfort. He scoffed at me, saying I was just making excuses. And that whether I like it or not, I had turned into a frumpy ‘aunty’ after marriage. That was the start of his manipulation.”
“Hmmm.” I said. She went on,
“So obviously, the next day, just to prove him wrong, I wore a tank-top and a knee-length skirt. When he came and sat in his chair, I expected him to comment on the change in my attire. But he did no such thing. Just made conversation about other things. Finally, when he got ready to go, I asked him if he didn’t notice anything different about me. He looked at me clueless and said, no. I did a small twirl and said – my clothes today? And he started laughing. He said this showed how frumpy I had gotten. This attire was not considered too revealing even in the 70s when he and his wife were young, he said. If this was my idea of trendy, it showed how I was typical. He was laughing even as he left the house.”
“What a clever bastard.” I said. “So let me guess, the next day, you wore even skimpier clothes?”
“Yes.” Shilpa said wistfully. “I wore one of those tiny skirts. And I realized he was right. I hadn’t worn it in months. And I wore that halter top, the one which shows almost my whole back. When he came, he gave me a look of approval and a smile. But didn’t say anything. He took his post and I started painting. Finally after an hour or so he said – ok, I know you want me to notice your attire, so fine, at last you are dressed properly. He had almost made me wait for his approval so much that I beamed in happiness. A while later, I dropped my brush accidentally.”
“Ah. So he..” I said, but Shilpa snapped,
“Don’t interrupt. I bent down, mindful of the fact that he might get a glimpse of my panties. Wanting to tease this smug bastard, I stayed bent a little longer than needed. When I got up, I saw that he was laughing. I asked why he was laughing. And he said because of what he saw. And I said, was he a small boy to giggle that he saw a girl’s undies? And he said no, he wasn’t laughing for that. So I asked why then? He said it showed I was still frumpy at heart. Confused, I asked huh? And he said he found it funny that I wore “grandma underpants” with such a pretty skirt.”
“Oh! Bastard.” I said.
“I know. I said there’s nothing wrong with those panties. And he said, surely maybe for a frumpy Indian aunty. But his wife would have worn trendier underwear. I didn’t say anything. Just fumed and kept painting. That’s when Savitri came.”
Savitri is our maid who cleans the house and does dishes and laundry. She is a petite young woman, not excessively beautiful, but not ugly either.
“Savitri usually came in the morning. But from that day she was going to come in the afternoon. So she came into the studio, with her broom and mop. When she came in, she first stared at me wide-eyed, maybe because she had never seen me in such revealing clothes. Then she looked at Balram, said “Balramji!” and actually blushed and smiled. That puzzled me. She then started sweeping the floor and I noticed that all the time, Balram kept checking her out. Almost shamelessly. Even more puzzling, Savitri noticed, but kept working with a wry smile on his face.”
“A while later Savitri was done cleaning the studio, she left. As she was going, Balram said “tata!” and she giggled. A minute later, Balram got up and said, he’d be right back. I casually asked, bathroom break? He said, no. And left the studio. I waited there for a few minutes, and then decided to get a drink of water. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw Balram standing there wiping his mouth, and Savitri hurriedly adjusting her saree. Clearly, they had been doing something.”
“Balram and the maid?” I asked.
“Yes. Well, I ignored them, drank water, and went back to the studio. Balram followed me. He sat in his place and I resumed painting. I asked him casually if there was something up between him and Savitri. He smiled and said, gentleman don’t kiss and tell. I smiled and said, I thought Savitri was married. He said she was. But she knew what she wanted. Then he said, it is only middle class and upper middle class Indian women who become frumpy after marriage, another jab at me. Women like Savitri, he said, discover their true appeal after marriage. I said to him he was disgusting, taking advantage of a poor woman like that. He said he hadn’t forced her. They had played a game of seduction some time back. Shocked, I asked him if he had slept with her. And he guffawed and said, gentlemen don’t fuck and tell either.”
“He then launched into a speech about how she was pretty, and graceful, and insatiable. How he had flirted with her and she had flirted back. How women like me could learn a thing or two from women like her, he said derisively. By then I was really pissed off at his constant indirect putting down of me. I decided to teach the old man a lesson.”
“Which is exactly what he wanted?” I asked.
“Yeah, I suppose. The next day, I wore an even skimpier halter top, the one that just barely covers my boobs? And I actually went out and bought an even shorter skirt. One that just barely stopped below my pussy. I wore it, with a thong underneath. I wanted to tease and torment the old man so much that he’d get a boner in front of me. When he rang bell at the usual time, I went to open the door, and I was surprised to see another man with him.”
“Another man?” I asked.
“Yes. That was Shambhu, his friend. Also old and retired. Balding, like Balram, but not fat. In fact, very skinny. I was so embarrassed to suddenly be in such revealing clothes in front of a stranger. Standing there with my legs fully visible, my bare back on display, and my boobs almost spilling out of the two straps of the halter, I felt like hiding somewhere. I didn’t say anything. Balram introduced me to Shambhu very nonchalantly. Said he was a friend who had come to visit him from out of town, and he hoped I didn’t mind if he stayed and gave him company. Obviously, I could not say no. If Balram was a chatterbox, Shambhu was the opposite. Didn’t say much. Just sat on another chair and kept listening to Balram yammer on and on.”
“And of course, stared at me. He kept staring at me so much, I started feeling conscious and thought about changing into something more decent. Finally the doorbell rang, and I guessed it was Savitri. I excused myself to go open the door. I had also decided to change while I was away, but just as I walked out, Balram said – you are looking really pretty today, very perfectly dressed. The first proper compliment he had given me. I smiled, almost basking in the glow of his rare compliment and went to open the door.”
“Who was at the door? The Gurmeet guy you mentioned?” I asked.
“No, it was Savitri. She came in, again, staring wide-eyed at me. I started walking back when she called out to me. Memsaab, she said, wait a minute. I asked what was it. She said to me – be careful of Balramji. He is not completely what he seems. I found that a little presumptuous and nosy. I asked her, what the hell did she mean? She said, and I quote – In just a week, he has taken you from shirt and pants to this…. think about how long it will take him to get these little pieces of cloth off. That pissed me off. I shot her an angry look and said – Mind your own business, and don’t forget your place. I am a married woman. She smiled and said – sorry if I am saying too much, but I am a married woman too. Which is why I am telling you, be careful. I told her to go do her work and stop talking too much. And fuming, I went back to the studio. I was so upset at Savitri, that I forgot to change.”
“Just as I was about to enter the studio, I overheard Balram and Shambhu talking. I heard my name so I stopped a couple of feet away to listen. Shambhu said – Shilpa seems quite hot. Balram said – She is good looking, I’ll give you that, but I bet she is a typical repressed middle class Indian girl. Shambhu said – Doesn’t seem so from what she is wearing. Balram said – Heh. She is doing that just to prove a point, and even then she is so scared and conscious about you looking at her. Her maid is more self-aware than her. Shambhu – Really?. Balram – Yeah, I bet this Shilpa has never seduced a man in her life. Just gone from momma’s house to hubby’s house.”
“They knew you were listening, didn’t they?” I asked.
“Yeah, in retrospect, I am sure they did.”
“So what happened next?”
“I walked in at this point, pretending that I hadn’t heard anything. I started painting again. And once more, Shambhu was staring at me, and Balram was just chattering away to Shambhu without looking at me too much. I finally decided to make Balram pay attention. I said to him – I need you to change your pose. I went close to him. Bent a little in the waist, and touched his chin with my hand and lifted his face upwards, and then moved it sideways. Now Balram was paying attention. His eyes were staring at my boobs which were partially displayed from the sides of the halter top.”
“Was he getting a hard-on?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. Anyway, just as I was doing that, Shambhu said – I am going to use the bathroom. I was standing between his chair and Balram’s chair. He could have gone from the other direction. But instead and I am sure on purpose, he squeezed behind me. In doing so, he very “innocently” bumped into me. Actually, it felt as if he pushed me. Whatever it was, it made me loose my footing and fall towards Balram.”
“The way I fell, my face went above Balram’s left shoulder, and my shoulder bumped into his chest. I was just about to regain my footing and get up when……” Shilpa paused.
“When what?” I asked.
“Well… very swiftly, Balram put his arms behind my back, pulled me down into his lap and….. kissed me. He kissed me hard, very passionately. First I tried to resist and free myself from his grasp. But he was too strong, and also, well, honestly, his kiss was too good to break out of. I stopped struggling in a few second and started kissing him back. Without realizing, I put my left hand on his almost bald head. We were like that, lip-locked for at least a minute. And finally he broke free for air and inhaled.”
“After he broke the kiss, I noticed Shambhu was standing behind him, with a wide smile on his face. Without looking at him, Balram said – Shambhu, you were going to the bathroom? Shambhu immediately walked out of the studio. I was still in Balram’s arms, resting on his lap….well part lap and part paunch…. with my hands around his neck. I was still reeling from the after effects of his kiss, a kiss that I would have never expected someone like him to be capable of.”
“As I lay there in his arms, he lowered his head and kissed me again, but this time, I felt his hand go lower and reach beneath my skirt. I was still lost in his kiss and I barely registered that he had taken my thong off. Then he broke his kiss and I felt his finger on my clit. I looked down and noticed with shock that he had flipped my tiny skirt above my waist, and my naked pussy was on full display. That’s when reality suddenly hit me. I realized what I was doing and I yelled – stop! let me go!”
“Did he let you go?” I asked.
“Yes” Shilpa said, “he did. I immediately got up and he started laughing. He said – I knew you are too frumpy to give in to your natural instincts for too long. I responded by saying – shut up. I am a married woman. And you just took advantage of me. He said – I took advantage? All you had to say was stop. As soon as you did, I let you go. He was right. So I just stood there, unable to say anything. Finally when I gathered some thoughts to say something, the door opened and Savitri walked in. She looked me at, standing there, and Balram sitting on the chair. I bent down to see and make sure my skirt was no still bunched up. To my relief, it was not. Wordlessly, I walked back to the canvas and picked up some brushes to decide which one to use next.”
“But as it happened, I was still very shaken at what had happened – how I had let a strange man kiss me. So my hands started trembling in nervousness, and suddenly the brushes all fell out of my hand and down on the floor and scattered around the half the room. Reflexively, I bent down, got on my hands and knees and started collecting them. I was so nervous and shaken that I didn’t realize….”
“That you had no panties on?” I completed her sentence. She nodded.
“And a lot of the brushes had fallen behind me, so my butt was facing Balram and Savitri. And with that tiny skirt having ridden up, my ass and my pussy were visible to both of them.”
I pictured the scene in my head. My beautiful wife’s sculpted and perfect butt, and usually shaven pussy, on display as she was on all fours, with a tiny skirt riding up. My erection now started coming to life.
“In a few seconds I realized what I was showing and I immediately stood straight. Looked behind cautiously. And I saw three faces with contrasting expressions. Balram was grinning ear to ear. Savitri was shaking her head knowingly. And Shambhu, who had entered the room without my realizing, had a hungry wolf expression on his face, with his tongue hanging out.”
“Did they fuck you then?” I asked, rubbing my erection over my pants.
“No. Not yet.” Shilpa replied.
“So what happened next?”
“I suddenly felt a sense of dread and panic overcome me. Immediately I said – umm…that’s it for today. I won’t be painting any more. Please leave. And I ran out of the studio and ran up to the bedroom. I rushed to the closet, and quickly put on underpants, a bra, trackpants and a loose t-shirt. As I came out of the bedroom, I saw Balram and Shambhu had left. And Savitri was sweeping the living room. When she saw me, she stopped sweeping and said – Memsaab, I told you…. but I interrupted her and said – You should go now, complete the cleaning tomorrow. She again said – But please listen.. and I interrupted her and yelled – Didn’t you hear me? Just go!”
“So what happened next?” I asked.
“At that point I had decided I had made a big mistake. I decided to end the portrait sessions. I called up Balram and told him, it’s done, don’t come over tomorrow. I am finished. He didn’t say anything. Said OK and hung up.”
“So…. how did he come back?” I asked.
“Remember the evening he dropped by for tea for the first time?” Shilpa asked.
“Yeah.” I answered.
“It was that day. I was going to tell you everything that very day, come clean and apologize. Because the damage had not been completely done. But I think he saw you come home and immediately landed up for a supposed “social visit”. The three of us had tea, snacks and talked about things. Well that time, when you went to the bathroom, he quietly handed me a note and whispered – read this as soon as you can. I put the note in my pocket and went to the bathroom after you. And read it in the bathroom. I was expecting an apology note.”
“Was it?” I asked.
“No!” Shilpa said. “It was a blackmail note. Well, sort of. He had written something like – I have no interest in seducing frumpy women like you. What happened today was just a small accident. Obviously, you have taken it too seriously and decided to cancel the portrait. I don’t care about seducing you. But I want that portrait completed to gift it to my daughter. So you ARE going to complete it. I am coming over tomorrow to pose for it. As soon as you read this note, come out and ask me what time I am coming tomorrow, as a sign that you are agreeing. If you don’t agree, I will mention all about today’s incident to your husband. In fact i will tell him I have slept with you. And if he doesn’t believe me, I will tell him about the mole on your left buttcheek.”
“Son of a bitch!” I said.
“Yes, so I had no choice. I came out and asked him what time we he was coming the next day. And he beamed and said noon.” Shilpa replied.
“So the next day he fucked you?” I asked. She smiled at me wistfully and said,
“If only he operated that simply. He didn’t want to blackmail or coerce me into sex. He wanted me to….” Shilpa trailed off.
“Wanted you to?” I asked.
“He wanted me to beg for it.” she said. “Anyway, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I sat there ruminating over the story she had told me. This seemed true. I was convinced that finally she was being truthful. But the manipulativeness of Balram stunned me. On one hand it angered me. But on the other hand, I had to admire how he had played Shilpa like a puppet from the word go. And clearly, there was a lot more to come.
“The next day, I decided to dress frumpy. I wore a long sleeved t-shirt, with a bra underneath. And wore trackpants with the grandma panties. Shortly after noon, he was at the door. I had expected Shambhu to be with him, but thankfully he was alone. He didn’t say a word, not as much as a smile. Just walked straight to the studio and took his pose. I also went behind him wordlessly and started painting. And then, the powercut happened.”
“So the powercut story was true?” I asked.
“Well, mostly. Except he didn’t ask for permission to take his shirt off. He commanded me to work on his face and took the shirt off. Then…. he took his pants off too, and sat there in his underwear. And that is when I noticed the big bulge in his underwear.”
“He was hard?” I asked.
“No, he was not. But the bulge, even without an erection is very…..substantial. I kept painting, but I couldn’t resist peeking at his bulge. Which he noticed. He asked me if I wanted to see more, and I said no.”
“Did you?” I asked.
“Well.” Shilpa said, “I said no the couple of times at least. Anyway, after that he started pestering me to take my t-shirt off too. I kept saying no, but he kept insisting. And then he made the wisecrack about seeing my private parts. And he added, he could understand if I wasn’t confident of my ability to resist him, which is why I was wearing a shirt in such oppressive heat. Again, he challenged my self-esteem and I got manipulated. I took off the shirt. Then a while later, he kept goading me to take the bra off, again making similar comments about my insecurity about being able to resist him. So I took the bra off too and started painting topless.”
“In a couple of minutes, I noticed the bulge in his underwear kept getting bigger and bigger. I tried to look away but it was just…. too big. He caught me looking and said – well, it is growing because of you fabulous boobs, and because you are the cause, I think you really should see it. I shook my head. He asked again. I shook my head again, but this time slower. The next time he asked, I didn’t say anything. So he got up, and took his underwear off.”
“And is it….big?” I asked.
“Oh yes. It is.”
“Bigger than mine? Tell me honestly.” I asked, and regretted the question as soon as I asked it.
“Yes. It is way bigger. You know that porn star Ron Jeremy…. he looked like him….old, hairy, balding, big paunch, but a bigger dick. And I realized where he got his cocky confidence from, no pun intended. Anyway, I watched spellbound as he came close to me. I could not take my eyes off his dick. Pretty soon he was next to me, and playing with my boobs like I told you last time. Or I should say attacking them. He played with them for a few minutes, bringing me into a heightened state of arousal.”
“Were you playing with his dick?” I asked.
“Yes, I was. Running my hands up and down it, feeling its girth and length. He kept playing with my tits and I kept playing with his dick. After a few minutes, he asked me to get completely naked. I obeyed, like a slave. Instantly, I pushed my pants and panties down and stepped out of them. He then started fingering my clit and my pussy, standing right there. He did that for a few more minutes and by now, if he had wanted, he could have fucked me and I would not have protested.”
“But he didn’t?” I asked and Shilpa shook her head.
“His cellphone which was in his pants started ringing. He left me standing there, my pussy sopping wet and my nipples hardened and went to answer the phone. He took the phone out of the pants, listened for a few seconds, and just said – ok just a minute. He then disconnected the phone, and beckoned me over with his finger. I walked towards him, as if in a trance. He asked me to sit down on the chair and I did. He asked me to open my legs wide apart and I did, hoping he would fuck me. But instead he took my right hand, put my fingers in my pussy and said – do this.”
“Weird. And then?” I asked.
“And then,” Shilpa said, “he walked out of the studio, just like that. Naked, his huge cock still fully erect. I sat there, fingering myself like he had ordered. And waited for him to come back. I thought he had gone to the bathroom or something. So I waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Nothing. Finally, I got tired of fingering myself, and decided to go and see where he was.”
“And where was he?”
“He was in the living room.” Shilpa said. “On the couch. Or rather, Savitri was on the couch and he was on top of Savitri, fucking her gradually. I walked towards them and stood behind the couch. My eyes first went to their crotches. Balram’s dick was pistoning in and out of Savitri’s cunt, and yet it did not completely enter her pussy. Savitri was lying on her back, fully naked, her tiny boobs gyrating. Her eyes were half closed, as if in a trance. But when she heard me approach, she looked into my eyes, and I looked into hers. She registered my nakedness and smiled ruefully.”
“I stood there for a few minutes, but Balram did not as much as look at me. He was ignoring me. And I just stood there, watching him fuck her. Like watching my own personal porno. After about ten minutes, as Balram fucked her harder, he finally looked at me and said – why are you standing there like a zombie? Sit on the couch and finger yourself. I walked around the couch and sat next to Savitri’s bouncing head. Still looking at them, I started fingering myself. Savitri looked up at me, reached up with her hands and started fondling my left breast. This went on for a while, after which Balram withdrew his dick and told Savitri to get on her knees. She did and Balram started fucking her doggy style.”
“Savitri’s face was now right next to my hips, and whenever a hard thrust pushed her forward, she’d lick me. After a couple of minutes, Balram asked me to turn sideways facing him. I did, and almost immediately, Savitri put her tongue on my clit. I was already pretty worked up. Add to it the sight in front of my eyes – my maid, fully naked, on her knees, being fucked by a dirty old man. It did not take me too long to have an orgasm. As I got done with the orgasm and relaxed my muscles, Balram spat at me.”
“He spat at you?” I asked absentmindedly. By now my erection was raging hard.
“Yes, he spat at me and said – typical middle class housewife, cums so easily. Look at Savitri. I’ve been fucking her for twenty minutes and yet no orgasm. You know why, he asked. And then answered – because I haven’t let her have one yet. You want to see me make her cum in 30 seconds? I just stared at him, with glazed eyes. He said, observe. He pulled Savitri’s hips closer to him and started fucking her at an increased tempo. And the expression on Savitri’s face, which was still at my crotch, changed dramatically. Her eyes rolled upwards, her mouth was wide open and she started whining. The whine grew louder until it became a shriek. And then, as Balram continued to pound her, she grabbed me around the waist, hugged me tight for support, and started shaking. I started shaking with her, and her orgasm hit her in full force. And I tell you, Arun, it was….. like something I have never seen before. The way she shook, the way she wailed…. the intensity of her goosebumps… and she even started to cry. She shook like that for a good minute or so, and then finally fell silent and motionless.”
“Balram however, kept fucking her. He then said to me – come here, and get down next to me on your knees. I did as I was told. And he took out his dick and shoved it in my mouth. I tasted the different flavors on it – Balram’s juices mixed with Savitri’s. Bitter and salty. He grabbed my head and started fucking my mouth. With barely half his dick in my mouth, it was hitting the back of my throat. He fucked my face like that for about half a minute, then took his dick out and started fucking Savitri again, making her moan once more.”
“Damn.” I said, getting my dick out and stroking it. I noticed that Shilpa was now breathing hard too, clearly turned on by the memory of what had happened.
“He fucked Savitri for a minute, then fucked my face, then Savitri, then my face. He kept doing that for at least ten more minutes, and I wondered, is this man ever going to cum? My jaw muscles started hurting and Savitri’s moans made it seem like she was almost unconscious. Finally he took his dick out of my mouth and then started doing eenie meenie miney moe.”
“He started doing what?” I asked, wondering if I had heard right.
“Eenie meenie miney moe. With my head and Savitri’s cunt. And it ended at her cunt. So he said – you win, Savitri. Then he inserted his dick into her very hard and started fucking her at a really high speed. I felt he’d tear her cunt apart with the force. But instead, Savitri started the whining noise I had heard a while back. I stared dumbfounded as Savitri’s body was wracked by another orgasm, and Balram also started making guttural noises. He was finally orgasming. Both their bodies shook and shivered, until they both finally finished their orgasms.”
“Balram kept his dick buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and stood still, then he took it out and shoved it in my mouth. I slurped at it hungrily, licking off the semen and pussy juice on it. After I licked his dick clean, Balram pulled me up by the hair and brought my face in front of Savitri’s oozing cunt. He said to me – eat it clean. I looked at him, confused. He said – slurp and swallow everything you see, then put your fingers in her cunt and take out as much of my jizz as you can, and eat it to. Now. In front of me.”
“Ohhhhh” I said…this sounded so depraved and kinky that I could not hold my own orgasm any longer. I pulled Shilpa’s head, put my dick in her mouth and started shooting. She obediently took it all in her mouth. And then, swallowed it all. I vaguely made a note to myself that she had never swallowed my cum except for when we had first started dating. Clearly, Balram had awakened the swallower in her once more.
Shilpa gulped down my juice very nonchalantly and continued,
“And I did it. I licked the hairy pussy of my own maid. Dipped my fingers inside her cunt, dug out gobs of cum and ate it. In five minutes, I had cleaned up Savitri’s cunt completely.”
“Then?” I asked
“Then, I stood there, unsure of what to do. I was expecting it to be my turn next. I was expecting that Balram would fuck me now. But instead he said – Savitri, get dressed and do your work. Shilpa, let’s go back to the painting. I felt like asking him to fuck me too. But I guess my pride got in the way. He should be asking to fuck me, not the other way round, I stupidly thought even in that situation. So I walked back with him to the studio. And continued painting, naked. A while later, the power was back on, but I still remained naked, maybe hoping that this would entice Balram. But it did not. His cock got hard again after a while, but he sat there, as if waiting for me to make the first movie. And I waited for him to approach me.”
“But neither of us blinked. So he yelled and called out Savitri’s name. She came running, now fully dressed. He gestured her to get naked and sit on his cock. Savitri looked at me unsurely. She knew what I was thinking. Then she said to him – why don’t you do Memsaab first? He said to her sternly – she doesn’t deserve it yet. Do you want to do it or not? And Savitri meekly took off her clothes. Again, in front of my eyes, they fucked. This time I stood some distance away and watched. Finally Balram came inside her, this time a bit sooner than before, and again told me – eat her clean again. He then got dressed and walked out.”
“I stood there for a while. Savitri was still lying on the floor, her eyes glazed, her pussy dripping with cum. I finally went to her, got on my knees and started lapping at it. After a few minutes, when she regained her breath she said to me – Memsaab. I told you to be careful. Now….now he will make you beg for it. He made me beg for it, and he’ll make you beg for it too. Like a street bitch.” ===========
Shilpa fell silent. I cleared my throat suggestively, asking her to go on.
“Arun, tell me something.” she said.
“How did you know I was lying before?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you after you’ve finished narrating.” I replied.
“Come on! Tell me. Did Savitri tell you? It has to be her!” Shilpa pressed me for an answer.
“It was not Savitri.” I said.
“Then who?” she asked. “Please, I have been telling you so much. Can’t you just answer one question?”
For a moment, I considered telling her about the video clip. The clip that showed her naked, going down on Mangal. But then I remembered she hadn’t mentioned him when I asked her to name everyone that she had been with. Which made me wonder….as elaborate as her narration had been, was she still hiding something from me?
“Why do you want to know that so badly?” I asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she countered.
“You know…. I am beginning to wonder if you still intend to hide some things. Maybe that is why you are giving such an erotic description of everything. To turn me on and distract me from some real questions.”
“WHAT??” she yelled angrily, “I am giving erotic descriptions to turn you on? You are the one asking me detailed questions, Arun. What was I doing, what was I wearing, where was he standing…..how was his dick? Why don’t you admit that you are the one who wants to get turned on? You are the one who loves the idea of my being used and abused by a dirty old man? Admit it, Arun, just admit it. I have lied to you, but you are lying to yourself.”
Her outburst surprised me. And angered me.
“How dare you turn this around on me?” I said.
“I am turning it around on anything, Arun. I am just saying, every time you ask me about it, you want answers in details, like from some erotic story. And every time, you get turned on and we have sex. And you are not willing to admit that it turns you on? That you are ……” she trailed off.
“That I am what?” I asked.
“That you are…happy to be a cuckold? Turned on by being a cuckold?” she said glaring at me.
“Bullshit!” I shouted a little too emphatically, possibly to cover hide my self-doubt with anger. “Stop manipulating me, Shilpa. Every time you start this type of a mind game, I get convinced you are hiding more than you are revealing.”
She just sat there, still glaring.
“OK, let me ask you some straight questions. You said you had sex with Shambhu too.”
“How many times?”
“How many days or how many times?” she countered, with an evil grin.
“Tell me both.” I said.
“Actual sex or other stuff too….. like oral?” she asked again.
“Tell me all.” I said.
“See, you are the one who wants details. Isn’t it enough to know that Shambhu had his way with me? How does it help you to know how many times? Unless you want to get titillated again.”
She had a point there. So I asked another question,
“Did you have sex on our bed?”
“Yes.” was her curt reply.
“Where else in the house, apart from the couch?” I asked.
“The kitchen table, the living room desk, the living room floor, the studio floor, the studio chair, the guest room, the corridor and……the roof.” she answered.
“The roof? In broad daylight?” I asked surprised. Our house is single-storeyed, and the roof is visible from the a lot of houses and buildings nearby.
“Yes, in broad daylight.” she said.
“With whom?” I asked.
“On the roof? With Gurmeet.” she answered.
“Who is Gurmeet?”
“What??? You have been fucking our postman?”
“How did it start?”
“There you go again. Details, details.” she smiled, clearly enjoying this.
“Don’t tell me the whole story. Just tell me in short how it first happened.” I said.
“I was in the living room, getting finger-fucked by Balram while I sucked Shambhu, and that’s when the doorbell rang. Balram had still not fucked me till then. He said that if I wanted to get fucked by him, I should open the door naked. I did. It was Gurmeet the postman with a registered letter. While I was signing, Balram told him to come inside and wait. And then…. he asked me to give Gurmeet a blowjob. And eventually it led to sex. That’s the whole thing in short.” she said.
“But doesn’t he come around every day even now?” I asked.
“Yes. But before you ask, I don’t sleep with him any more.” she answered.
I paused for a second. There were so many questions jostling in my mind, but then my mind went back to the video clip and I asked,
“Were your sex games limited to just our house?” I asked.
“No.” she said.
“Where else?” I asked.
“Balram’s house, Shambhu’s house too.” she said.
“Anywhere else?” I asked. She paused for a few seconds and shook her head.
“Wasn’t Balram’s servant at home?” I asked.
“Yes, he was.” she said.
“Did he also fuck you?”
“Did his servant not fuck you?” I asked.
“No.” she said emphatically.
“Did he see you naked?”
“Yes.” she said, almost sounding disappointed that I finally asked the right question.
“Did you suck his dick?” I asked
“So how did not fuck you?” I asked.
“Well, he was going to. Balram wanted it to happen. But then, there was a small incident and we had a fight.”
“What was the fight about?” I asked.
She stayed silent. As if picking her words carefully.
“They wanted me to do something.” she finally spoke, “And I didn’t want to do it. That disagreement happened right when I was sucking his servant’s dick. So we fought, and I came home.”
“What did they want you to do?” I asked, knowing fully well she was referring to the video clip.
“I’d rather not say.”
“What if I said I know what it is?” I said. She stared at me, confused. I continued, “I saw the video clip of you sucking Mangal’s dick.”
“What???” she asked, her face ashen.
“Yes, I did.”
“How…who…where…..how did you see it?” she asked.
“Some guys at work were watching it and I happened to walk in.” I said. At this point her face turned completely white and she started trembling.
“Oh shit! Oh no! Oh God, I’m dead.” she said, and started crying. For a moment I felt like taking her in my arms and consoling her, but I resisted the urge.
Then she turned her face upwards, looked at me and yelled,
“You idiot! You know there’s a clip of your wife being forwarded around and you were sitting here making me tell you my sexual escapades in detail? What’s wrong with you, Arun? Where’s your sense of priorities?”
I didn’t say anything. She continued,
“Now everyone knows. Everyone at work, I am sure.”
“No one knows. Your face isn’t visible in it.” I said.
That seemed to make her take a pause from crying,
“It isn’t?” she said.
“No, it isn’t. The guys who were watching it were also ruing about how the woman on screen never shows her face. And I saw how it ended too, with you knocking the camera away.”
“But then….how did you know it was me?” she asked.
“Firstly, I recognized the big map on Balram’s wall. Secondly, I recognized his servant. And thirdly, I know your body very well, and if there was any doubt, one of the zoom shots clearly showed that mole on your left butt cheek.”
She continued crying, but not as hysterically. I sat there two feet away from her. After about ten minutes of crying, she got up and went to the bathroom. She washed her face and said,
“I have a headache. I have had enough of all this. I am going to sleep.” she said. I looked at the clock. It was close to midnight. I nodded and follower her upstairs. We both lay down on the bed, with some distance between us. She seemed to have fallen asleep at once. I tossed and turned for a few hours thinking about what had happened and what I should do next, and it was close to dawn when I finally fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of my cellphone ringing. With half-open eyes, I reached for it and answered.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello Arun, this is Dev.” the voice from the other end was that of my Boss.
“Yes Dev? Tell me.” I said.
“Tell you? You tell me!” he sounded annoyed. “Where the hell are you? We are supposed to go on that big sales call together!”
“Oh, yes” I said, looking at the clock… damn it was already 10 a.m. “Sorry Dev, I took some medicine last night and overslept.”
“You’re still at home?” he said incredulously.
“Yes, but sorry, I’ll….I’ll meet you at the client’s office directly in…half an hour.” I said.
“OK, hurry up, Arun!” he said and disconnected the phone.
I sat up and looked around. The bedroom was empty.
“Shilpa! Why didn’t you wake up me?” I yelled. No answer. “Shilpa??”
I got up and walked around the house. She wasn’t in the kitchen, living room, any other room or any of the bathrooms. I even poked my head into the studio but she wasn’t there. Where had she gone? I called out her name a few more times, but no answer. I finally decided to call up her cellphone, in case she had gone to the store for some groceries. But when I dialed her number, I heard her phone ring in the bedroom!
I walked into the bedroom and saw the cellphone ringing on the nightstand. I disconnected the phone and it stopped ringing. That’s when I noticed a piece of paper kept under the phone. I picked it up and started reading. It said –
I am sorry for everything I have done. And I am sorry if I said some mean things to you. The situation we are in is very complicated and tempers are bound to flare. I think we should both do some deep thinking about our future. It is only after a lot of thought that we should even talk. I am going away for a few days. I need a complete break from you, and from all this drama. Until yesterday I thought I could face it with you and talk it out, but then you told me about the video clip being circulated, and that was the last straw. Balram promised me he would keep it private. But he clearly broke his promise. I can’t handle this any more.
So I am going away. Don’t wonder where. Don’t try to find me. I am not going to my parents’ house or any of my cousins or friends’ place. And no, I am not going to any of my lovers’ places either. Just let me be for a few days. I’ll keep emailing you to inform you I am safe. When I have done enough thinking, I’ll come back. Until then, you do some thinking too. Think about our future, if you think we should have one together. And how we should live it.
P.S. I am leaving my cellphone here so you or anyone else doesn’t get in touch with me.
I read the letter three times in shock. She had just taken off while I was sleeping. Gone AWOL. Supposedly to think. Probably to think. But was there some other reason, I wondered. I stood there thinking for a couple of minutes when I was reminded of the sales call. Trying to put Shilpa out of my mind, I quickly showered, got ready and left for the call.
A week went by very quickly. Shilpa was still not back. She’d send me one email everyday. With the same text in all of them – “I am fine. Love you.” I replied to her emails with questions about where she was and who she was with. I pleaded with her to come back home. I even during the later emails, apologized for acting like a jerk. But she never replied to those emails. Just sent the one line emails about her being fine.
I immersed myself in work. But I also thought, like Shilpa had asked me to. The more I thought, the more I felt bad for her. Yes, she had made a mistake. Several mistakes. But she had been played by a master manipulator. And even now, she was sorry. She still loved me. She promised she would never repeat her mistakes. And I loved her too. I loved her a lot. I could not bear the thought of losing her. In a few days, I had decided that I would not ask Shilpa any more details. I’d just tell her that I forgave her for her mistake, and we should try to restart our life from scratch.
So one evening at the office, I sat and wrote her a long email saying all this, and begged her to reply to it or come home soon. It was long, emotional, contrite, understanding….. I was positive she would reply to it. Hoping that this would end the episode, I set for home. As I was driving, I felt the cellphone ring in my pocket. Expecting it to be Shilpa, I hurriedly took it out and answered it, without worrying about cops stopping me.
“Hello Shilpa?” I said enthusiastically.
“No.” a female voice answered. “This is Salma.”
“Salma???” I asked, confused about if I knew anyone by that name.
“Yes, from the detective agency, Mr. Arun.” she replied.
“Oh yes, yes.” I said. “Tell me?”
“Mr. Arun, we have completed our investigations about your wife. If you can come in any time today before 9, I can give you the full report.” she said.
“Oh…err…. what did you find?” I asked, suddenly feeling silly to have hired a detective agency to investigate my wife.
“Well, Mr. Arun…. it’s not something I can tell you over the phone.” she replied.
“Do you think…” I asked “I would want to know it all?”
There was silence on the other end. “Hello?” I said.
“Yes, I am here, Mr. Arun.” Salma said, “I was just thinking about your question. You know I had suggested you don’t start this investigation in the first place. And yet you insisted. So I don’t know whether you want to know it all or not.”
“I see.” I said, trying to decide what I should do.
“Let me ask you this. Have you made a decision about divorcing your wife?” she asked.
“Yes.” I replied. “I have decided not to. I want to give her another chance.”
“Then, Mr. Arun, you don’t need to know anything I have to tell you. Just work on rebuilding your marriage. And forget about the past. Don’t worry about the remaining payment. Consider it my belated gift. Bye.”
And she hung up. Content with my decision, I drove on and went home.
The next day at work, I got a reply from Shilpa to my heartfelt email. Even this was short. It just said –
Thank you for the lovely email. I love you too. But there are some more things I need to sort out that I haven’t told you about. I need to think a little more. But I’ll be home soon.
The email really pissed me off. Even after this, she was hiding from me? Even now, after my giving her a blank check, she was being high-handed? What the hell? I spent the rest of the day scowling and snapping at everyone in the office. And cursing Shilpa in my mind. I kept thinking about her email – some other things she hadn’t told me about. And then I thought about Salma’s call. Maybe I did need to know it all, I thought.
After I got off work that evening, I went to the detective agency. The receptionist asked me to wait while Salma finished talking to another client. I sat there, my heart beating fast, wondering what information I’d come to know. After fifteen excruciating minutes, a man walked out of her office, clasping a file very tightly, and an angry look on her face. Salma walked out behind him, saying,
“I am sorry, Mr.Jain.”
He grunted and walked out. She then saw me, and sighed,
“You. I somehow knew it. I knew you couldn’t resist knowing.” she said. “Anyway, come to my office. Rosie, bring in the Shilpa file.”
I followed Salma into her office and sat on the chair in front of her. She sat down and asked me,
“What drink would you like?”
“Water is fine.” I said.
“No, I mean….what sort of a liquor would you like? Will scotch do?” she asked.
“It’s OK, I don’t need any alcohol.” I said.
“Trust me, Mr. Arun. You do. I’ll ask for some to be brought. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want.” she picked up her phone and said, “Rosie, get that bottle of red label and one glass.”
The next couple of minutes passed in silence, as I stared at the table and Salma stared at me. Finally the door opened and Rosie came in, a thick file under her armpit, and a glass and a scotch bottle in her two hands. She kept the bottle and glass in front of me, handed the file to Salma and left.
Salma opened the bottle and poured me a large one.
“Sorry, we don’t have any ice.” she said and pushed the glass towards me I didn’t touch it.
“Could we get on with it, please?” I said impatiently.
“Alright,” she said opening the file, “first let me tell you about our standard disclaimer. We can not reveal the sources we got our information from, or how we got them. But rest assured, that no one knows that there was a detective agency snooping around, or that you were looking for some information on your wife. So when I tell you something and you ask, who told me this, I can’t answer that question. I do have evidence for some things. But not for all. It’s up to you whether to take it as true or rumors.”
“Okay, I’ll start with information relevant to whatever you told me when you came here last week.” she said, flipping through some pages and reading carefully. “Your wife did indeed have an affair with Mr. Balram during the last couple of months. The affair started after he started coming to your house daily to model for a portrait. For the first couple of days, she worked on the portrait. But then, according to my sources, she discovered she wasn’t able to paint it too well, and got worried about completing it in time. On approximately the 4th or 5th day, a Mr. Tariq started coming to your house too.”
“Tariq?” I said, wondering why the name seemed familiar.
“Yes, Mr. Tariq teaches the painting course your wife was taking.” Salma said.
“Oh yes, her teacher. Tall old man?” I asked. Salma checked the paper, and said,
“Yes. Mr. Tariq, age 62, 6 ft 2, white hair, medium built. Instead of your wife, he started doing the portrait. Apparently so that your wife could submit it and complete the course.”
“What? Why?” I said dumbfounded. Shilpa always complained about how strict and demanding Tariq was. I wondered why he would help Shilpa cheat on the course. But even as I thought about it, I knew the answer.
“Mr. Tariq and your wife have been having an affair for almost a year now.” Salma said reading from the file “Their meetings would happen right before or after the class. And a few times, he also came to your house when you weren’t there. And, from the information I have….. had you gone on a week long trip to Singapore four months ago?”
“Yes I had. For a sales training conference.” I answered.
“During that time, your wife and Mr. Tariq went to Goa for a few days. They stayed at the D’Costa Resort in Vagator. Here are some pictures we were able to obtain.” Salma said, sliding a some papers in my direction. I picked up the papers and looked at them.
They were color printouts of a few pictures. The first two showed Shilpa, dressed in a bikini with a leather strap around her neck, lying down on the beach and waving at the camera. The next two were of Tariq and Shilpa, hugging each other. The next one had them kissing. The next one showed her lying on the sand, face down with just her bikini bottoms on. And in the next two, she had turned on her side, displaying her boobs to the camera. As shocking as these pictures were, the next two were the ones that really blew my mind. The first one showed her on her knees, topless, with three white men standing around her with erect dicks. She had one dick in her mouth and the two others in each of her hand. The last picture showed her completely naked spread-eagled on her back, with Tariq’s dick about to enter her, as she had another man’s dick in her mouth. In all these pictures, Shilpa was wearing the leather strap in her neck, even when she was fully naked.
“Bitch!” I said, shocked at the pictures.
“I am sorry, Mr. Arun. It turns out that Mr. Balram is not the first man your wife cheating on you with.” Salma said in a sympathetic voice. “Should I continue, or have you heard enough?”
“Please continue.” I said, reaching for the glass of scotch and taking a sip.
“So back to how the affair with Mr. Balram started.” Salma said, looking down at the file again. “Mr. Tariq came for a few days and painted the basic portrait, and Mr. Balram would pose for it. From what I know, and I have no solid proof for this, just based on what a single source said” she flipped a page, “Mr. Tariq….gave your wife an order to seduce Mr. Balram.”
“An order?” I asked.
“Yes, just a second.” she flipped back to the previous page and read for a few seconds. “As the leather ornament in your wife’s neck in those pictures indicates, your wife was in a ……. subservient relation with Mr. Tariq.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, confused.
“Well…. they weren’t so much boyfriend and girlfriend as….. master and slave.” she said shaking her head. “The kind of sexual perversions on comes to know of in this business, Mr. Arun, are just…. unimaginable.”
“What do you mean, master and slave?” I asked.
“Well, I believe the lifestyle it called…..BDSM? Where a person, often a woman, willingly accepts to act like a slave…often sexual slave…. to a master, usually but not always, a man. Do you want me to google it and show you?” Salma asked pointing at her computer.
“No, that’s OK. I understand.” I said “Please continue.”
“So Mr. Tariq ordered your wife to seduce Mr. Balram, and she did it. By wearing increasing fewer clothes, from what we know. Apparently, Mr. Balram initially resisted, because of his ties to your family. But in a couple of days, he could not resist your wife’s……” she paused “machinations, and gave in.”
“I see. So she was lying till the very end.” I said picking up the glass and emptying the whole drink down my throat. Salma pushed the bottle closer to me and I poured myself another drink.
“After a few days, Mr. Tariq completed the basic outlines of the portrait, from which point your wife could continue further. And he stopped coming to your house. But the affair with Mr. Balram continued. After a couple of days, your maid, a Ms. Savitri, accidentally walked in on them having sex. Your wife had forgotten to lock the door and the maid was late that day. She walked in, assuming the door had been left open for her. And when she went to the room your wife paints in, she saw Mr. Balram and your wife engaged in copulation.”
“I see.” I said, taking a big swig of the scotch.
“Now it seems that Ms. Savitri and Mr. Balram had previously had sexual relations. After she saw your wife and Mr. Balram together, Ms. Savitri got very agitated. She attacked your wife in rage and they fought for a while. Eventually, your wife subdued Ms. Savitri with the help of Mr. Balram, and managed to eject her from the premises. But Ms. Savitri threatened to make your wife pay for her ways.”
“This just keeps going deeper and deeper.” I said, slurring a bit.
“Mr. Arun.” Salma said, “I can stop whenever you wish.”
“No, please, continue.” I said, sipping some more scotch, bracing myself for the next revelation.
“According to my sources, that encounter left Mr. Balram rather shaken. He was already ridden with guilt because of his family connections with you. Now this encounter with Ms. Savitri further complicated the situation. He was also worried by Ms. Savitri’s threat. He suggested to your wife that they should stop their affair, and tell you everything. Your wife refused. They argued, and he left. So that day, he came to your house for tea, hoping to tell you everything regardless.”
“He wanted to tell me everything?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, according to my sources.” Salma said.
“Who are your sources exactly?” I said, slurring and raising my voice.
“Now, now, Mr. Arun. I already told you.” Salma said, “I can not reveal that. I am just telling you the information we gathered. Whether to believe it or not is up to you.”
“That’s not fair!” I said. “Anyway, he wanted to tell me, then?”
“Your wife was vehemently opposed to the idea. She used many means to stall him and manipulate him. For instance, when you were all seated at the dining table, she apparently kept playing with Mr. Balram’s organ under the table. She threatened him saying she would report him for rape. And other things. That day, Mr. Balram finally changed his mind and gave in to your wife’s wishes.” Salma said.
“However, he told your wife that he would not come over for the portrait any more. The next day, when he did not arrive as planned, your wife called him up. But he did not answer her calls. So she went over to his house. His servant, a Mr. Mangal, whom you saw in that video clip you told me about, had been given orders by Mr. Balram to not let her in even if she came. So he stopped her from entering, and which point…” Salma turned another page and read, “your wife started disrobing at the door.”
“She what??” I asked, unsure of what I had heard.
“She started disrobing at the door. Mr. Mangal, unaccustomed to a woman of her beauty and social standing exposing herself to him, gave in to her wiles. What ensued was sexual intercourse between your wife and Mr. Mangal. Mr. Balram heard the noises, and unable to resist the erotic scene he saw, joined in. And……” Salma paused and looked at me, and then continued. “The next day…”
“Who whoa, wait! The next day? You were just talking about what happened with Balram and Mangal. Did you skip something” I asked.
“Yes. It is…. not important, Mr. Arun. Just lurid details.” Salma said.
“Read the whole thing!” I shouted, and Salma continued,
“Mr. Balram heard the noises and unable to resist the erotic scene he saw, joined in. And your wife had sex with both of them simultaneously. Mr. Balram penetrating her in the…..conventional manner and Mr. Mangal…..” she paused and took a deep breath, “sodomizing her at the same time.”
I closed my eyes and imagined the scene. Shilpa, my exquisitely beautiful wife, sandwiched between the fat old man Balram and his stick thin servant. Balram fucking her in the cunt, and Mangal fucking her in the ass. Whenever I had suggested anal sex, she had always dismissed it right away. And here she was, going around getting buggered by random servants?
“Now we come to the matter of the video clips.” Salma said.
“Video clips? More than one?” I asked.
“Yes, the clip you saw was just one of the several taken that day. It is also the only one in which her face is not visible. In all the other clips, her face is visible. And…. the sex has been captured on the camera in great detail.” Salma said.
“Oh fuck!” I said, realizing why the news of video clips circulating had made Shilpa run away. The other clips were out there too! For the world to see and identify my wife engaged in a sordid threesome.
“One thing though. All the other clips are….private.” Salma said.
“What do you mean private?” I asked.
“I mean, they are not in circulation like the one you saw. As far as we know. We checked all websites where such clips and routinely uploaded, and none of the other clips have appeared there. The clip you saw, with her face hidden, is the only one circulating among the general public, as far as we know.” Salma.
“Well, hurray!” I said sarcastically.
“The next day” Salma continued, ignoring my comment, “things got a little more complicated. Mr. Balram was at your house, posing for the picture. By this stage, we are told, your wife would routinely paint in the nude. There was very little painting actually. Mostly sex. That is when Ms. Savitri paid a visit to your house again. And she was accompanied by..” she flipped the page, “…four more men.”
“Four men? Four? What men?” I asked.
“According to the information we have…..Mr. Shambhu who runs a paan shop on Maruti Road, Mr. Gurmeet who is a postman, Mr. Shyam who is a waiter in a restaurant, and a Mr. Pinku who is unemployed and homeless. Ms. Savitri directed the men to have sex with your wife as they pleased. There was a scuffle. Mr. Balram was manhandled by the four men and forced to cooperate. Your wife resisted their advances.”
“Hah! That’s the first I have heard her resist advances from anyone but me.” I said bitterly.
“Your wife resisted their advances for a while, but then was sufficiently aroused to cooperate. What ensued was an orgy in your living room, being directed by Ms. Savitri, in which your wife was ravaged by the men for the whole afternoon. Ms. Savitri also eventually joined in with Mr. Balram, and by the end of the whole incident, there was rapprochement between your wife and Ms. Savitri.” Salma said.
“Any videos or pictures of that?” I asked.
“No.” Salma said flatly and continued, “An understanding was reached between the two ladies, in which they would share Mr. Balram’s company. Subsequently, your wife continued having relations with Mr. Balram and Ms. Savitri, and on other occasions with the other four men that Savitri had brought along.”
“On a daily basis. And that is pretty much all the information we have on the events of the past few weeks.” Salma said.
“Did she continue to sleep with other men in our house after I caught her and Balram together?” I asked.
Salma looked at the file and said,
“Yes, I am afraid so. According to the timeline we have pieced together, she had at least one of them men visit her for sex during the day, right until the day you came to me with this case. And the next day, she left you house and went to Mr. Tariq’s farmhouse.”
“Err…what?” I asked, sitting up straight.
“Yes, about a week back, the day after you gave us the case, early in the morning one of my men had just taken his position outside your house to keep an eye on your wife, when he saw her walk out of the house. She took an auto-rickshaw and he started following her on his scooter. He followed her to a farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. A farmhouse that we later found out belonged to Mr. Tariq. That is where she has been for the last many days.”
I sat there, with my hand on my head. She wanted a break to think, she had said. And she was spending it with her lover…. or her master.
“What has she been doing there?” I asked wearily.
Salma picked up the phone and spoke in it,
“Rosie, did Johnny drop off the DVDs? Okay, bring them in.”
Then she turned to me and said,
“I am not sure exactly what she has been doing there. My man hasn’t written out his report yet. But he has managed to gain access to the farmhouse and taken some pictures and videos with a hidden camera. He burnt them into DVDs and was about to submit them with a written report when we spoke yesterday and you said you didn’t want to know anything. So I told him not to bother.”
That’s when Rosie walked in with 3 DVDs and handed them to Salma.
“Then today when you called, I asked him to drop off these DVDs. They have pictures and clips from the farmhouse, and also the private clips from the time your wife had relations with Mr. Balram and Mr. Mangal. Here, they are yours.” Salma said sliding them towards me. “You can watch them and get an idea what your wife has been up to for the last week. Frankly, I am sick of this whole case.”
Salma closed the file, slid it towards me and got up.
“That is all, Mr. Arun. This file has the whole report in detail. It is yours. And please, don’t bother paying me the rest of the amount.”
“No, no, Ms. Salma” I slurred, getting up, “I insist. You worked hard.”
“No, really, Mr. Arun, it’s okay.” Salma said.
I got up to thank her and leave, but I had trouble standing straight. I had drunk a little too much scotch, I realized. Salma also realized it.
“Mr. Arun, did you come by car?” she asked.
“Yes.” I said, holding the chair for support.
“You are in no position to drive.” Salma said and picked up the phone “Rosie, is Johnny still around? Good, send him over.”
In a few seconds, the door opened, and a young non-descript looking man, whom I presumed to be Johnny, walked in.
“Johnny, this is Mr. Arun. Drive him home, and then come back.” Salma said to him.
“Yes, Madam.” Johnny said. A few minutes later, I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car, almost ready to pass out, as Johnny drove the car. He drove the car silently for a while, until the fresh air coming in from the window sobered me up a little. I sat up and asked him,
“So you shot the farmhouse videos in these DVDs?”
“How bad are they?” I asked.
He kept quiet.
“Tell me how bad are they?” I asked again.
“Sir…. don’t mind me saying this.” he said politely “but your wife is the most sick depraved woman I have ever seen in my life. If my wife was even 1% as sick as her, I would have divorced her long back.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I am the stupid cuckolded by his disgusting wife.” I said.
He drove in silence for a while more and said,
“I am sorry, Sir.”
“Why are you sorry, man?” I asked. “She is the sick one. I am the cuckold. What’s there for you to be sorry about?”
“Because….. I also fucked her, Sir. At the farmhouse.” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Please understand, Sir. I didn’t have a choice. It was an invitation only sex-club type thing. I had to gain entry to gather evidence. And once I managed to get an invitation through Salma Madam’s contacts, I…..well…I had to do whatever or…whoever everyone else was doing.” he said apologetically.
“Hmmmm.” I said. “How was she?”
“How was she? My wife? Was she a good fuck? You are the first man I am actually talking to who has fucked my wife. Well, about fucking my wife anyway.”
“Sir….please…..” he said hesitantly.
“Just answer me, dammit!” I yelled.
“She is…well, god has made her just for fucking men, Sir. She is a natural. And very talented. Does things with her mouth and cunt that I never thought possible. And her stamina…… that night I was…. probably the 20th man she was with. And yet, she was as enthusiastically involved as if I were the first.” he said and stopped.
“Well, I am glad you got to taste my wife too. All men who have fucked my wife should form a voting bloc, I tell you. The number must be big enough to turn elections!” I said angrily.
Johnny kept quiet. In a few minutes, we reached my home. Johnny parked the car in the garage and escorted me to the door. He handed me the file and the DVDs and was about to go when I said to him,
“Give me directions to the farmhouse.”
Johnny turned around and said,
“Let it go, Sir. Just forget her. Divorce her.”
“Just give me directions to the farmhouse. Where exactly is it?” I growled.
“Sir, even if you go there. No one will let you in. It has tight security. You need invitation cards to enter.” he said.
“Give me yours.” I said.
“Sir, please, just let it go.” he said.
I caught hold of his collar with both hands, pulled him close to me, and yelled,
“Give me the directions and the card, or I swear I’ll kill you.”
I felt a hard punch land in my stomach and I immediately let go of his collar. He kicked me a few more times in the stomach and I sank to the ground in pain.
“You asshole!” he shouted “How dare you lay a hand on me? I know you are in shock so I won’t do anything more to you, but the last guy that tried to manhandle me now wishes he still had his hands.”
Johnny spat at me, turned around and started walking away. He then turned back and walked towards me. I cowered, thinking he was going to kick me again, but instead he stopped in front of me. He took something out of his pocket and threw it at me.
“Here. This is the invitation card. The address and directions are on the back. I still think you are an idiot to want to go there. But go if you want. It’s your funeral!”
I grabbed the invitation card with both hands and watch him walk out of the gate. I sat on the ground in front of my door for a few minutes. Then I picked up the file, the DVDs, the invitation card to the farmhouse, and went inside the house.
I was still groggy from the scotch and I felt a strong headache coming on. So I went to the kitchen and started making some coffee. A few minutes later, I was sitting on the couch, drinking coffee. In front of me on the table were the DVDs. I picked them up and looked at the covers. They were the usual blank DVDs with the standard cover. On the top of them were titles. One said “Shilpa Balram Mangal Clips”. The second one said “Farmhouse 1 – Outdoor”. The third said “Farmhouse 2 – Inside”.
I picked up Farmhouse 1, took out the disc, put it in the DVD player and turned on the TV.
A grainy image filled the screen. This shot was clearly taken from a fair distance away. The farmhouse was visible, with a fence around it. Then the camera zoomed into the side of the farmhouse. To a window. And I saw Shilpa standing there, completely naked from the waist up. Nothing visible from the waist down. She was standing there, with a cigarette in her hand, smoking. I had never known Shilpa to smoke, so this was a surprise. Of course, compared to the massive earthquake-like shocks I had gotten from her recently, her smoking should barely register on the richter scale.
She stood there smoking and staring out of the window into nothingness for a few minutes, and then someone joined her. The picture was grainy, but the man was clearly Tariq, her teacher…or should I say, her Master. He whispered something in her ear and she smiled. Then he reached around and grabbed her beautiful tits, and she rested her head on his shoulders. They were like that, talking for a few minutes. And then Tariq disappeared. Shilpa finished smoking her cigarette, stubbed it on the window-sill and threw it out of the window.
As soon as she did that, she turned back suddenly, as if someone had called her. Tariq re-appeared again, but this time grabbed her hair and shook her head, pointing outside the window. From her lip movement, she seemed to be saying sorry. He pulled her back, and she disappeared from the view. The camera stayed focused on the empty window for a while more and then moved to the side of the wall.
From there, appeared Shilpa, completely naked, except that now she seemed to have a black leather belt around her neck. Hooked to the belt was a leash, which Tariq emerged holding. He was dressed in jeans, but was shirtless, showing off his slim but chiselled torso. They walked to the backyard, and stopped at a point. Tariq yanked the leash hard, making Shilpa fall to the ground. The camera then zoomed in on her and showed her picking up the cigarette but she had thrown, using her lips. With the cigarette butt in her lips, she turned around, and walked back to the house, Tariq behind her. The clip got over.
The next clip started. This seemed to be the front entrance of the farmhouse. There was a man standing there at the gate with a basket of fruits, looking at the door. The door opened and out came Shilpa. She was dressed in the tiniest and tightest black leather shorts. So tiny, that an inch shorter and it would be called leather underwear. On top she wore the skimpiest top…if you can call it a top. It was like the top of a string bikini, except it seemed to be made of leather too. The straps were thin. And the patches were big enough to only cover her nipples. And of course, the leather belt in her neck.
The fruit seller seemed to be standing very still, probably surprised to see her. Shilpa walked to him very nonchalantly, and started picking out fruits from his basket and handing them to him, which he then put in a plastic bag. She paid him, took the fruits and went inside the house. The fruit-seller lounged around a bit, maybe hoping for another glimpse of my hot slut of a wife. But no one came out the door. So he left. And the clip ended.
The next clip, a very long one, shocked me even in that state. Even after all this, I had not considered Shilpa capable of what I saw her doing. The camera was now on what seemed like the back of the farmhouse. The back door opened, and she walked out, wearing just a t-shirt (and of coruse the leather strap in her neck). She was completely naked from the waist down. Tariq was close behind, with some ropes in his hand. Shilpa opened the back gate of the fence and walked out and Tariq followed her.
She then walked along the fence, and came to a point where a plank was missing from the wooden fence. Tariq pointed to it, and Shilpa immediately got on her knees and put her head through the fence. Her beautifully round butt jutted out at the camera, and Tariq could not resist spanking it a few times. She then put her hands through gaps in the fence, and Tariq began tying her hands to the plans in the fence. He tied both her hands tightly, pulled them to make sure they wouldn’t come off. He then took a tube out of his pocket (probably lubricant), and smeared it all over her pussy and asshole. He then walked back inside the compound.
Shilpa was left there, her head inside the fench, her torso covered by a t-shirt, but her butt, and of course her pussy wet and exposed in the daylight for anyone to see. Tariq who head walked back inside the house, now came out with some more stuff. He walked towards her head, on the inside of the fence. He took out a roll of tape and put it on her mouth, covering it completely. He then took a blindfold (the kind they give on planes to help you sleep), and put it over her eyes. And then he quietly turned around, and went back inside the house.
The clip showed Shilpa just tied to the fence in that position for a long time. I took the remote and fast-forwarded it. Until I saw someone else on the screen. An old woman, with a basket of vegetables on her head approached Shilpa. She looked around, and seemed to be asking Shilpa something. Shilpa just wiggled her ass in response. The old woman hung around for a few more minutes and then walked away.
She re-appeared a couple of minutes later, this time accompanied by the fruit-seller I had seen in the previous clip. She pointed at Shilpa, and they talked about something for a few minutes. Finally, the fruit-seller pointed in a direction and the old woman started walking towards it. He kept looking in that direction for a few minutes. Then he seemed to shout out something, probably calling her name. Waited for a response, and probably got no response.
Almost instantly, he untied the knot of his pajama, and lowered it. He also lowered his underwear, and an average sized cock, fully erect, sprung out. He immediately got on his knees behind Shilpa and started fucking her. All the while, he kept looking in the direction the old woman had gone. In just a few minutes, he seemed to be done. He got up, spanked Shilpa’s ass a few times, got dressed and left.
In ten minutes, two more guys, also dressed like rural folks, like the first guy reached the spot. The speed with which they reached there suggested that the fruit-seller had told them that a great piece of ass was there for fucking. They both fucked her, and then left. The next scene had taken place at night. It took place in the backyard lit by two light bulbs on the wall. With the already grainy quality of the picture and the dim light, things were not very visible. What I could make out though was that Shilpa was tied to the fence again. This time she was inside the fence. And she was not on her knees, but on her feet, bent over, and dressed in a leather teddy. And some guy was fucking her from behind as about four other guys sat on lawn chairs nearby, but Tariq wasn’t one of them. As I paid more attention, I noticed that there was a gag ball in Shilpa’s mouth, her eyes were closed, but the look of pleasure on her face, even in that dim light, was unmistakable.
The guy got done fucking her and stepped back. I expected someone else to start fucking her, but instead, all four men got up and came towards Shilpa. They all had something in their hands. Two men had paddles, and two others had thin canes. They took positions all around her and started paddling and caning her ass. Really hard. I knew Shilpa liked to get spanked, but the force with which the men were hitting her was almost brutal. The camera zoomed in on her face, and tears were streaming down her eyes. But even though she was crying, I could tell that she was enjoying the punishment.
The guy who had just finished fucking her sat on the chair for a while, watching the other men beat my wife’s ass black and blue. And then he got up, moved to the front so he was next to her, and took the gag ball out of her mouth. He started speaking to her and she started replying. She was still crying, but whatever she was saying, did not seem to be a cry for help based on her expressions. The conversed for a while and then he moved to the back. He took the cane out of one guy’s hand, and that guy moved to the front.
He bent under Shilpa’s body and then stood up facing her, between her tied hands and in the fence. He then grabbed hold of her hair and pushed her head down. From the angle the camera was at, I couldn’t see her face, but it was clear that she was sucking his dick.
Finally after a few more minutes, the men stopped paddling and caning her ass and got to fucking her one by one. I sat there on the couch, watching my leather-clad wife getting abused by four men, and I did not realize when I drifted into slumberland.
The next morning, I had taken a day off from work. I was in my car, speeding towards the farmhouse to confront Shilpa and Tariq. I had the invitation on the seat next to me. At first glance, it seemed like a normal party invitation. But reading it made clear what it actually was.
It said –
“For seven days and seven nights – an exquisite female slave at your service to be used as you please. Entry by invitation only. Please display this card to the security at the entrance. The card will admit you and you alone. No other men. Only companions allowed are females younger than 40 and dogs. Address and directions below.”
That’s what had been happening? Tariq’s invitees were getting to fuck Shilpa, spank her, whip her, paddle her….do anything with her they please. And people were allowed to bring their dogs? I was sure that no matter what I had imagined to be happening at the farmhouse, the reality was more perverse and depraved than it.
At about 10 a.m. I pulled up in front of the farm house. There were a handful of cars parked outside. As I opened the gate and walked in, I saw two burly men in blue uniforms standing in front of the door. As I walked up to them, one of the men said,
I fished out the card from the pocket and handed it to him. He looked at it carefully, gave it back to me, and opened the door. As I was walking in, he said to me,
“You should hurry, because she usually sleeps in an hour or so.”
I nodded and entered. In front of the door was a wall making up a small passageway. I walked along it and entered a big living room. The scene I saw was very erotic. A reasonably attractive woman who was not Shilpa, was dressed in a leather teddy, blindfolded and was on all fours. A man, completely naked except for a leather mask, was fucking her from behind. And in front of her was a casually dressed man slapping the woman. As I walked in, the two men looked at me for a moment and went back to abusing the woman.
Across the room were two doors. I walked towards them, trying to locate my wife. I poked my head inside one door and saw an empty dining room. The other door opened into another passageway which had a few more doors. I opened the first two and peeked inside, but they were empty. I tried to open the the third door, but it seemed locked. I jiggled the knob, but it wouldn’t open. Just as I was about to knock on it, a voice said
“Don’t disturb them.”
I turned around and saw the voice belonged to Tariq, standing at the end of the passageway. He was dressed in a plain red bathrobe, and had a cup in his right hand. As our eyes met, a look of recognition shone on his face and he smiled at me,
“Arun! How nice of you to drop by!” he said. I looked at him. The last time I had met this man was when I had gone to pick Shilpa up from her class. He had been standing outside and Shilpa had introduced the two of us.
“You bastard!!” I yelled, running at him with my clenched fist raised. He stared at me as I got closer, and just as I was about to punch him in the face, he rapidly ducked at the last second. My fist hit empty air, and I suddenly felt a hard punch land in my solar plexus instead. Tariq had punched me instead. I reeled at the impact and bent over. That’s when I feel another punch land on my neck and then a chop in the back of my head. I felt the light fade from my eyes and I passed out.
When I woke up, I was on a bed in on of the rooms I had earlier poked my head into. I sat up, holding my neck which still hurt. I got up and tried to open the door, but it was bolted from outside. I banged on the door and shouted for a while, but no one responded. That’s when I heard a phone ringing. It was a small phone on the wall. I stared at it for a few seconds and then picked up the receiver and put it to my ear silently.
“Arun?” Tariq’s voice said.
“Let me out of here, you son of a bitch!” I yelled into the phone.
“I want to do that, Arun. And I will. But first I need an assurance.” he said.
“Open the fucking door!” I yelled.
“I will. But first I want your assurance that you will not get violent. Let’s talk like adults. If you assure me of that, I will let you out.” he said calmly.
I stayed silent, fuming.
“If you do get violent, just remember how easily I knocked you out. I didn’t do you any permanent damage, because I can understand your being upset. But the next time you attack me, I will break some bone in your body. So what do you say, Arun? Can we talk like adults without getting worked up?”
“Fine.” I said.
“I need your solemn word.” Tariq said.
“I give you my solemn word that I won’t get violent.”
The phone clicked and went silent. A few seconds later, the door opened. Tariq stood there, still dressed in the bathrobe and nothing else, smiling and asked me to follow him. I got up and walked behind him as he lead me to a room which seemed like some sort of a study. There were shelves full of books, a table with a computer and some stationery, and some furniture. He sat in an cushioned oak chair and asked me to sit on another identical chair in front of him.
“Where is Shilpa? I want to talk to her.” I said.
“Shilpa is busy right now. That closed door you knocked on before you attacked me? She is in there with a friend of mine and his wife. I have told her you are here, and she will join us after they are done with her.” Tariq said.
“What are they doing with her?” I asked.
Tariq smiled, turned his head sideways and said,
“What do you think they are doing with her?”
I stayed silent.
“Now, I want you to know something. And I hope you believe me.” Tariq leaned forward in the chair and looked into my eyes. “I have been against hiding this from you from the very beginning.”
“Yeah, sure.” I said, scoffing.
“No, I am serious!” Tariq said sincerely, “When I collared Shilpa…. you know what collared means?”
I shook my head, although I had some idea.
“Collaring someone means officially making them your slave. That’s what I did to Shilpa almost a year back.” Tariq explained. “Anyway, right when I did it, I told her I’d prefer it if she just told you the truth. Explain to your her urges, her submissive instincts, and her rare needs that you could not satisfy. I said that she should tell you and leave the decision up to you. But she did not agree. I always believe in transparency.”
“So you If she is your slave, why didn’t you just order her to tell me then?” I asked, speaking through my teeth. Tariq sighed and shook his head.
“That’s not how it works, Arun.” he said. “My collaring her and making her my slave is limited to certain aspects of her lifestyle only. I don’t tell her how to run her life in other ways. She is my slave only when she is wearing my collar. The rest of the time, she is free to do what she wants. I can only give suggestions. For example, her art.”
“What about her art?” I asked.
“If it were up to me, I would have ordered her to give up these dreams of becoming an artist. I told her that in the first month she started taking lessons. She does not have the eye, the talent or the special gift to become an artist. She was just wasting your money and her time by continuing the lessons.” Tariq said.
This was news to me. I always considered Shilpa to be talented. But then, I was just a layman when it came to art.
“Anyway, coming back to the point. I have always been of the opinion that you should know everything. And it might surprise you to learn that even whatever you know now, is thanks to me.” Tariq said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, Arun…. this detective agency business…who do you think gave them all this information?” Tariq said with a genial smile on his face. “I did. That guy snooping around the house…Johnny? I spotted him right away on the first day. Caught him. Made him talk. And then told him the whole story.”
“What???” I asked, shocked.
“Yeah. You think it is so easy to get into this house and take all the videos you must have seen? He could take those videos with his ridiculous “hidden” camera, only because I allowed him to. I am the one who gave him pictures of Shilpa and me from the trip to Goa. I am the one who told him everything that happened when that old neighbor of yours came over.” Tariq said.
“But….why?” I asked.
“Because, like I said Arun, I want you to know.” Tariq said. “You are a nice guy, who just happened to get unlucky. Who did not fully recognize what sort of woman he was marrying. Women like Shilpa….. they can never be satisfied with just a normal life, Arun.”
I stared at him questioningly.
“This need that she has, this want, this hunger… to be dominated, ordered around, sexually used.” Tariq continued “This is something she can not get rid of. She may suppress it for a while. But sooner or later, Arun, it was bound to get out. She had kept it in for too long. And when someone like me, experienced in these matters, came along, she was going to get into it. If it wasn’t me last year, it would have been someone else two years from now.” he said.
“Okay….” I said, trying to completely digest and make sense of what I was hearing.
“Not just that. I am not her first master, but her second one. She had a master before.” Tariq dropped another bombshell.
“What??? Who?? When??” I asked.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, this was a few years before she even met you. But it was not formally a master-slave relationship. She didn’t know about the BDSM lifestyle and neither did he. I was just a “de facto” submissive relationship. Which lasted barely a month, and then ended when her parents found out.” Tariq said.
“Who was it?” I asked. Tariq clucked his tongue and said,
“Not important. Ask her later. The point is, she had already recognized the thrill she got out of being submissive. And that part of her was always hiding in her, waiting to be stoked. And when I came along and recognized it, well, she became very easy for me to collar.”
“Alright.” I said.
“So I am glad it is out in the open. And I want to tell you my views on the situation. But before that, do you have any questions?” Tariq asked.
I sat there staring at him. The 62 year old man, with completely white hair, old enough to be my father…. or even Shilpa’s father. Just a few days back, I thought of him as the genial art teacher. And yet here he sat, wielding so much power. Sitting there in just a bathrobe in a stylish den, he seemed like one of those sophisticated villains from 70s Bollywood movies. Like Ajit or Pran. And my beautiful wife was his slave. Sleeping with others at his orders. How had things become to complicated, I wondered.
“How did it all start?” I asked.
“How did what start?”
“How did you make Shilpa your slave?” I asked.
Tariq got up and went to the table. He picked up a box of expensive looking cigars and offered me one. I declined. He took one out, lit it, and came back to the chair with an ash tray in another hand. Taking a puff from the cigar and inhaling it, he said,
“Shilpa always had problems in the class. She was one of the worst students. And she always had trouble with the simplest of assignments. So I often had to scold her, or criticize her in front of the class. Now of course, it was a class of adults, so I would never scold them too severely. But with Shilpa, i was beginning to lose my patience. So my rebukes of her got stronger and stronger, when she showed no signs of improvement.”
“After a few weeks” Tariq continued, “I noticed something. She almost seemed to enjoy my berating her in public. She would stand there with a sad look on her face, looking down at her feet. But from the way she fidgeted and something blushed, I started suspecting that she liked being told off. That’s when it first struck me – maybe she is a closet submissive. So once, just to test out my theory, when she made a mistake, I really yelled at her in front of everyone. I called her stupid, talentless, retarded, someone who should not even be allowed to touch a brush, much less paint. She started crying in front of everyone and rushed out of the class.”
As much as Shilpa had shown herself to be a degraded slut, the thought of a stranger insulting my wife in public still got me a little upset.
“My reasoning was…. if she isn’t submissive, she can just quit the class and never come back. Or at least complain about my insulting her to the college. But if she is submissive, she will not do anything. And that’s what happened. She did nothing. Turned up to class the next day as if nothing had happened. I decided to take one more step. I told her that because of her mistakes the previous day, I had a punishment for her. She had to hold her ears and do ten squats in front of the whole class. And she quietly did it. Which proved it to me. This woman likes being humiliated and dominated.”
Again, the thought of my wife doing squats like some errant college kid bugged me. But like Tariq said, she had an option to just walk out.
“Now here’s the thing. She was taking my public insults and punishments gladly, but others in the class started getting uncomfortable. Two women and a man spoke up, saying I was being too hard on Shilpa. And this was not some military college. They also said that if this humiliation of her continued, they would report it to the college. So I went all contrite, apologized for crossing the line, apologized to Shilpa, and kept mum.” Tariq said.
“After that, mindful of the other students, I toned down my rebuke of her. Even if she made mistakes, I would quietly point them out and that was it. Often I would just ignore her mistakes. And I saw a curious pattern emerge. Her mistakes got more and more glaring, and more and more frequent. It was almost as if she was begging to be yelled at or punished. often she would call me over to her easel and show me her work and it was clear that the mistake had been made on purpose. Even an artist as bad as Shilpa could not have made them.”
“So what did you do next?” I asked.
“I decided I had to test her limits. But I could not do it in class. So one day, I asked her to meet me the next day half an hour before the class in my office. She reached ten minutes before I asked her to come. She knocked on the door, and I asked her to come in and close the door behind her. She did, without any hesitation. immediately, without any preface, I started scolding her about her mistakes, and she kept saying sorry. I said sorry does not cut it any more. I would have to punish her.”
“Then came my first test of her limits. I asked her to bend over the table. She did. I took a ruler and started spanking her ass, over the jeans she was wearing. She did not object. I spanked her about 20 times, and stopped. She stayed bent over. I asked her to get up and leave. And I said if she kept making mistakes, I would punish her even more. She nodded and left, and I started preparing for the class.”
“She made more mistakes, didn’t she?” I asked.
“Bingo!” Tariq said, stubbing out his cigar “That next day she made the kind of mistakes even someone with arthritis wouldn’t make. She was begging for more punishment. Again, I told her to come to my office the next day. This time, I noticed she wore a knee length skirt. She hardly ever wore skirts to class before. It was almost always jeans. Again, I asked her to close the door, and went over the mistakes she had made, calling her stupid, useless and idiotic. She kept staring at the floor silently, as if waiting for things to move forward.”
“So I took them forward. I asked her to come and lie down on my lap, face down. Obediently, she did. I lifted her skirt up, and noticed, not very surprised, that she had worn a thong. Another sign of her wanting more. Since she had done such a great job of baring her ass to me, I spanked her using my hand, and on her ass cheeks. And I spanked her. She winced and yelped, but they were clearly yelps of pleasure and pain. After spanking her for about a minute, I noticed a distinct wetness being visible at her pussy.”
“After that, these spanking sessions became very regular for a few days. Often, she would come to my office even if I hadn’t told her to come. And without saying anything, either bend over the table, or lie down in my lap. And always, she would get wet. After about a week of this spanking, I decided to test her limit further. I asked her to come home with me after class. And she readily agreed, although she did say she’d have to leave in time for her to be home when you got back. When we got to my home…my home in the city, not this farmhouse…. I told her to take off all her clothes. She readily did.”
“And then?” I asked.