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She was still moaning in pain.I removed the condom from my cock & forced her to suck to clean it again. I lay her on her back & put my penis at her cleavage & rubbed my penis with her juicy melons.After a few minutes of boob-fucking last few drops of my cum comes out & touches her nipples. Her nipples were touching my nuts & a beautiful tickling sensation I felt. I then lay her on side & hug her boobs tightly & we laid at side for 30 mins . I kissed her back, waist & ass several times. She was extremely silent, but I called her “ MY WHORE”, “MY BITCH” ,” MY SEXY MALA MAAGI”etc.I had two-three photo of fucking in my mobile. I warned her not to tell anyone, otherwise I will send these photos to her husband & daughter. I told her that I want to fuck her periodically either in my place or her place. She listened all silently .She wore all the sarees, blouse, petticoat etc & I enjoyed the scene sitting at couch. She was having some pain in her ass & was moving a little bit slowly. I. One pairing had me competing with a slender dark eyed girl, about my height, her dark locks settling about her shoulders. She went first, and her poise, her eye contact, her fluid movements as she made one point after another, seamlessly weaving her points into one compelling whole, all captured my attention as if I were a mouse in a glue trap. The fact that her smile lit up the room, and she had a body that simply wouldn’t quit, did nothing to dampen her magnetism.She finished, and the judges conferred and set their scores. My turn. I stood, and launched into my (in my opinion) killer intro. I knew what my first expository point was. I had spoken on this topic before, and was kind of proud of how I had polished my spiel, to a high gloss. I shifted my gaze from one judge to the next, gesturing just like I knew what I was doing. Then I saw my adversary.She was sitting towards the rear of the room, wearing a professional blouse and a below the knee skirt. She swung one booted foot.
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I quietly whimper as this invisible man yanks down my skirt, roughly lifts my feet and removes the skirt completely. I cease to struggle, resigning myself to whatever my Master has in store for me. I sense that I am now alone, the darkness and emptiness press down on me. I seem to hang there for an eternity as my arms grow numb and my legs shake with the effort of standing only on the balls of my feet. Suddenly, the room is filled with hushed whispers. My ears try to pick up what they are talking about, they seem to be waiting for someone or something. I hear the creak of the old oak doors slowly opening, and a low haunting chant begins. A monotonous beating of a stick against the marble floor resonates through my body. The low chant builds in volume, growing more intense, and the hypnotic rhythm of men’s voices and the constant wood against marble sound fills the room, nearly overwhelming me. There is a loud final beat from the stick and silence falls once more. From the silent.

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