Chapter 8: My Gaand, gone!
The cord bit deep into Vishal’s wrists, stark red against his pale skin as he strained against the chrome stool leg. His cock, rigid and flushed in my grip, felt like a betrayal – his body screaming yes while his tear-streaked face pleaded no. "Chhod do, Tamanna!" he gasped, his voice raw, cracking. "Bas! Enough!" He jerked his hips, trying to pull away from my relentless, rhythmic stroking. Futile. The stool scraped harshly on the marble. "Sonal! Tell her to stop! Please!"
Sonal stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching with unnerving stillness. The flush from earlier had deepened, spreading down her neck. Her eyes, dark pools reflecting the morning sun streaming through the windows, held no pity. Only a fierce, simmering intensity. "He asked for this," she murmured, her voice low and thick. "Didn't he, Tamanna? When he hired you? When he touched you first?" Her gaze flicked to mine. "He doesn't get to say 'enough' now. Not after everything. Show him what 'enough' really feels like."
A cruel thrill shot through me, sharp and electric. Yes. After his arrogance, his desperation, his pathetic begging… he didn’t get to dictate terms. My thumb circled the swollen head of his cock, slick with pre-come. He whimpered, a high, broken sound. "Saali… randi…" he choked out, the insults weak against the tremors wracking his body.
"Keep talking," I hissed, leaning close, my breath hot on his ear. My other hand slid down, fingers tracing the tight furl of his asshole, making him flinch violently. "Aapka mooh aur gaand dono khule hain, Vishal Sir. Chup raho warna dono mein kuch daal dungi." His eyes widened in fresh panic, but beneath it, beneath the terror and the tears, that humiliating arousal pulsed harder in my hand. His cock jerked, weeping against my palm. He was hard as stone. Ready. Again. Utterly at our mercy.
Sonal moved then, swift and silent. She picked up the discarded length of silken curtain cord from the floor. Not towards Vishal. Towards me. A cold prickle of unease cut through my triumphant haze. "Sonalji?" My voice sounded thin.
She didn’t answer. Her expression was unreadable, focused. Before I could react, she grabbed my wrist – the one not holding Vishal captive. Her grip was surprisingly strong, iron-hard. "What…?" I started, trying to pull back.
"Hold him," she commanded, her voice flat, devoid of its earlier heat. It was pure instruction. "Keep him hard." With terrifying efficiency, she looped the cord around my wrist and yanked it behind my back. I stumbled, off-balance. "Sonal! What the fuck?!" Panic surged, sharp and acidic. This wasn't part of my script. Vishal watched, momentarily stunned into silence, his ragged breathing the only sound besides the rasp of the cord.
Sonal pulled my other arm back, binding my wrists together tightly behind me with the same secure knots she’d used on her brother. The silk bit into my skin. I struggled, twisting, but she was methodical, ignoring my curses. "Behen ki lodi! Chhod de mujhe!" I screamed, kicking out blindly. She sidestepped easily, delivering a sharp, open-handed slap across my ass that stung like fire. "Stand still."
She pushed me forward, towards Vishal’s bound form. My naked back pressed against the cool chrome of the stool beside his. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Sonal! Yeh kya kar rahi hai?!" Vishal’s voice held genuine confusion now, mixed with his lingering panic.
Sonal ignored him too. She positioned me facing away from Vishal, my ass presented towards him. My bound hands pressed uselessly against the cold metal stool leg. The panoramic city view mocked me through the glass. Dread pooled icy in my stomach. No. Not that. I hadn't agreed to that. I wasn't… I wasn't ready. "Nahi!" I shrieked, thrashing against the bonds. "Meri gaand mat chhodna! Vishal! Sonal! Please! Nahi! I'm not ready! It'll hurt!"
Sonal stepped behind me. Her hands landed on my hips, holding me firmly in place. Her voice was calm, terrifyingly calm, close to my ear. "Everything hurts, Tamanna. Everything worth having." Her fingers dug in, possessive, controlling. "Vishal," she commanded, her gaze fixed over my shoulder. "She’s yours. Take her. Take all of her."
I felt Vishal shift behind me. His ragged breathing changed. The confusion in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dawning, predatory understanding. The fear melted away, burned off by a sudden, terrifying focus. The prey vanished. The hunter emerged. "Haan, Sonal," he breathed, his voice low, rough, but steady now. Commanding. "Pakad lo use."
Sonal’s grip tightened, pinning me. I felt Vishal’s knees nudge my legs apart wider. His hands, rough and warm, gripped my ass cheeks, spreading them. The cool air hit my most intimate, unprepared opening. A sob tore from my throat. "Nahi! Vishal, mat kar! Please! It will tear! It’ll hurt too much!" I begged, tears blurring my vision. "Chhod do mujhe! Sonal, please!"
"Shhh," Sonal murmured, her breath hot on my neck. One hand slid around my front, fingers finding my clit, rubbing with cruel, deliberate pressure. "Relax, Tamanna. Or it will hurt more." Her touch sent conflicting jolts of unwanted sensation through me.
Vishal’s thumb pressed against my tight rosette. Dry. Insistent. "Chill, baby," he growled, his voice thick with a dark arousal I hadn't heard before. "Thoda adjust kar." He spat, thickly, onto his fingers. I felt the wet warmth against my clenched muscle. Then the blunt pressure returned, harder, probing. "Bas… thoda…"
"AAAAH!" The scream ripped from me as he breached the outer ring. White-hot agony seared through me, blinding, consuming. It felt like being ripped apart. "CHHOD DO! SAALA KUTTA! BHENCHOD! IT HURTS! STOP!" I bucked wildly, but Sonal held me fast, her hand on my clit relentless, her other arm like an iron bar across my waist. Vishal grunted, his fingers digging into my hips as he held me open.
"Slow," Sonal instructed him, her voice tight with her own tension. "Slow and steady. Let her feel every inch."
Vishal obeyed. With agonizing, deliberate slowness, he pushed his thick thumb deeper into the impossibly tight channel. The burning stretch was excruciating. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with sweat and snot. I cursed him, cursed Sonal, cursed myself. I pleaded, screamed, threatened. They ignored it all. Sonal’s fingers worked my clit, a cruel counterpoint to the violation behind, sending confusing sparks of sensation through the overwhelming pain. Vishal worked his thumb in deeper, twisting slightly, stretching me with brutal patience. "Kitni tight hai…" he breathed, awed, almost reverent in his violation. "Bohot garam bhi…"
He withdrew his thumb. Before I could gasp in fleeting, false relief, I felt the blunt, slick head of his cock replace it, pressing insistently against the ravaged entrance. Pre-come and spit slicked him, but it was nowhere near enough. "Nahi! Vishal! WAIT!" I shrieked, pure terror eclipsing the pain. "Not yet! Please! Give me time!"
Sonal’s hand left my clit. She spat into her palm, then reached behind me. I felt her fingers, slick and cold, spreading the saliva over Vishal’s cockhead and my tortured opening. "Now," she commanded.
Vishal pushed.
The world dissolved into white-hot agony. A raw, animal scream tore from my throat, echoing off the glass walls. It felt like my spine was splitting. Like I was being impaled. He was huge, impossibly huge, stretching me beyond any limit I knew existed. He pushed slowly, relentlessly, grunting with effort, holding my hips immobile. Sonal leaned her weight against me, trapping me completely. "Breathe, Tamanna," she hissed in my ear. "Breathe through it. Let him in."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. There was only the searing, tearing pain as he buried himself inch by excruciating inch into my unprepared ass. My vision greyed at the edges. I sagged against Sonal, my legs trembling violently. "Poora… andar tak…" Vishal groaned, his voice strained with effort and dark pleasure. He was fully sheathed, his balls pressed tight against me. The fullness was obscene, unbearable. I whimpered, a broken, continuous sound.
He didn't move. Just held himself deep inside that burning, tearing tightness. Letting me feel the sheer, violating intrusion. Sonal’s hand returned to my clit, rubbing again, harder. "Feel him," she whispered. "Feel how deep he is. How he owns you there now too."
The pain was still overwhelming, a red-hot knife twisting inside me. But beneath it, beneath the tears and the terror, something else flickered. A deep, forbidden pulse of sensation radiating from where Sonal’s fingers worked and where Vishal’s cock impaled me. It was buried under agony, but it was there. Unwanted. Terrifying.
Vishal began to move. Slowly. Infinitely slowly. Withdrawing an inch, then pushing back in with deliberate, grinding force. Each stroke reignited the fire, but also… stirred that buried pulse. Sonal matched his rhythm on my clit, her touch now less cruel, more insistent, focused. "Haan…" Vishal grunted, his thrusts gaining a fraction more confidence. "Aise… kitna tight hai…"
The pain was still paramount, sharp and bright. But the rhythm, the relentless, deep penetration, Sonal’s skilled fingers… they were weaving a dark magic. The agony began to blur, morphing into a strange, overwhelming fullness. The forbidden pulse grew stronger, synchronizing with Vishal’s thrusts and Sonal’s circles. A choked moan escaped me, mingling with a sob. Not just pain. Something else. Something hot and shameful and undeniable.
"Faster," Sonal breathed, her own voice ragged now. Her fingers moved faster, firmer. "Harder, Vishal. She can take it. She wants it."
Vishal obeyed. His thrusts deepened, quickened. The burning stretch was still there, a fierce ache, but it was now layered with a shocking, building pressure deep inside my core. Each powerful drive of his hips sent jolts through me – pain twisting into pleasure, violation twisting into a perverse, all-consuming need. My moans grew louder, less broken, more… wanting. My body, traitorously, began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts, craving that deep, brutal friction.
"See?" Sonal gasped, her fingers a blur on my clit now. "Dekha? Uska choot ka paani nikal raha hai… she’s dripping… for this." Her words were filthy, humiliating, and they sent another wave of that dark heat crashing through me. "Aa jao, Tamanna," she urged, her voice thick with her own arousal. "Apni gaand mein lund lete hue aa jao!"
The command, the brutal honesty of it, shattered something. The last barrier between agony and ecstasy crumbled. The deep, grinding thrusts, the fullness, the relentless pressure on that hidden spot inside, Sonal’s fingers pushing me mercilessly towards the edge… it coalesced into a tidal wave of sensation so intense it bordered on pain, but was undeniably, overwhelmingly pleasure. Pure, dark, annihilating pleasure.
I came. Violently. Screaming not in pain, but in mindless, shuddering release. My ass clenched viscously around Vishal’s invading cock, milking him as waves of electric ecstasy ripped through me. My legs buckled, held up only by Sonal’s iron grip and Vishal’s thrusts. He roared, his own control obliterated by my convulsing tightness, and slammed into me one last time, pulsing deep inside my ass with a guttural cry.
We collapsed forward, a tangled heap of sweat-slicked limbs and shuddering aftershocks against the cold chrome stool. Sonal released me, stepping back, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide and dark as she watched us. The silence was thick, broken only by our gasps and the distant city hum. The pain was still there, a deep, throbbing ache, but it was distant now, overshadowed by the profound, unsettling echo of that brutal, unexpected climax.
Vishal slowly pulled out. The sensation was sharp, raw, leaving me feeling impossibly empty and violated, yet… humming with residual, shameful satisfaction. He slumped back against his stool, spent again, his eyes closed, face slack.
I lay on the cool marble floor, bound wrists still tethered to the stool leg, my cheek pressed against the stone. Swati’s heavy gold necklace lay askew on my heaving chest. Tears still wet my face, but they weren't tears of pain anymore. They were tears of utter, bewildered confusion. The throbbing ache in my ass was undeniable. So was the slick heat between my legs. So was the terrifying, undeniable truth echoing in the hollow space where my defiance had been.
I loved it.