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The aftermath was tense. I heard nothing from Mr. Iyer or Swapnil. Prakash was obviously angry. He was angry with himself, with me, and certainly at our benefactor. That’s what he was, our benefactor. He came to our rescue in a manner of speaking while taking his pound of flesh and self-respect in return.

I was walking around as if the apartment floor was covered with bubble-wrap and I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself, and I didn’t. He left for the day without a word to me. I decided to let him initiate the communication. I dedicated myself to making the apartment perfect and to have his favorite dinner prepared, not knowing if he would return or when. I also speculated how I should dress for him. I leaned toward the traditional saree but worried because it was what Mr. Iyer required. Prakash wouldn’t know that, however, and the full saree hopefully would give the image of a dutiful, Indian wife, though it was a little late for that now.

Prakash returned home quiet. Although his demeanor was even and controlled, I was an emotional and psychological mess. I was dressed in a saree he had previously liked. When I heard the door being unlocked, I moved to the archway of the kitchen and stood with my hands clasped in front of me, my eyes on the floor. He stopped on seeing me but didn’t say anything as he then moved to change into more comfortable clothes. All through dinner, my hands shook as I passed bowls of food to him. Dinner was quiet, barely a word exchanged between us except to indicate a desire for something more of one of the dishes.

After I had cleaned up after the dinner, I returned to stand at the entrance to the living room where he was watching something on the television. I almost wished he would explode at me, again, just to get it over with. When he noticed me standing to the side, he turned off the television with the remote, then lightly tossed it onto the coffee table in front of the sofa he was sitting on. Just over his right shoulder was the location he had bent me over the back to fuck me last night. I couldn’t help looking at the spot. It had been an unexpected reaction to the night. I had expected him to yell, shout, and curse me. I even half expected to be hit or slapped despite Mr. Iyer’s warning. I had not expected to be fucked so forcefully. It had been so long since he had touched me in that way I wasn’t sure he could any longer. I now suspected he never stopped, just had stopped with me. Perhaps some of the time with his buddies had been spent in such activity with some woman, maybe some prostitute. The consideration hurt me emotionally, but I could no longer object. Though, it would be another example of how he had shaped the inevitable path we found ourselves on.

After turning off the television, he looked at me. Even with his quiet, his eyes still flashed his inner wrath and turmoil. He motioned me to the other side of the table where I took up my position in a similar pose of supplication, which was both a defensive reaction and a deep internal response from my submissiveness.

I stood before him in silence for several moments. I ventured a glance at him without lifting my head. He seemed to be nodding, then, “Yes, I like that. I want to see you in the saree as much as possible. If there is a reason for you to wear something else, it will be decided with my input. Do you understand?”

I nodded. The instruction I was given last night echoed in my ears, I was to be submissive to both men. “Yes, Prakash.”

“Now remove it.” I glanced up at him, then to the side at the window. It was nighttime outside, the lights inside glowed bright and if anyone could see in, they would be able to see very well. But, it was no different than those time when I would stand deliberately against the window naked for the exhibitionistic thrill. Now, Prakash was leading me to the same exposure and he was doing it without seeming to care if someone could see.

I began unwrapping the long material, first the left shoulder d****, then from around my waist, pulling the tucked material from the waistband of the petticoat. I glanced at him as I continued. When enough of the material was removed, he saw the petticoat underneath. He nodded. With the saree material removed, I pushed the petticoat down my legs and stood before him in panties and top. He made a rolling motion with his hand to indicate that I should continue. I removed the top, which left me in bra and panties. He smiled and made the same motion. I reached my hands behind my back and unclasped my bra, sliding the straps off my shoulders and off my arms. Glancing at him, I pushed my panties off my hips and down my legs, stepping out of them and the petticoat.

I stood before him naked. He was inspecting my naked body, twirled his finger for me to turn around. I turned so my ass was to him. I turned my head and he was twirling his finger, again. Face him, again.

“I vaguely remember when you walked into the bedroom naked and your pussy was cleaned of hair. Were you trying to entice me, Deepti?” I nodded. “You didn’t know how to get a sexual response from me, so you experimented?” Upon cross-examination, I had confessed some of my actions. I did not confess my actions with the dogs. “We’ve created quite a mess, haven’t we?”

“I am sorry, Prakash, for my part in this. I wish now I hadn’t felt so desperate to experience sexual attention, again.”

His face returned to being stern, again. His eyes narrowed into slits and his mouth tightened. “But, you did.” His eyes continued inspecting my body. He might have been looking at me more intently and deliberately than he ever did before, even after we were initially married. He stood up and unbuckled his belt, then opened the clasp of his pants, unzipping them, and pushing his pants down to his ankles. “Have you also learned to suck cock?” Embarrassed, I nodded. “Then get over here and start sucking.”

I stepped to him and sank to my knees. I didn’t want to offer anything more than I had to. I wouldn’t want him to know that I had first sucked a dog’s cock in the National Park. His uncircumcised, limp cock was hanging in front of my face. I took it in my right hand and raised it to my mouth. I put it all into my mouth, covering it with my saliva. Then, I started stroking it after adding saliva to my palm. I pulled the foreskin back to expose the cock head, licking it and putting it between my lips to suck the head. I kept the foreskin pulled back as I started pushing my mouth down the length of his cock, pulling back with suction, twirling my tongue around the head, then pushed my mouth back down its length. It wasn’t taking long for my mouth to cause him to begin hardening.

He gasped, “He made you into a good cock-sucker, wife. A little more and I will fuck you, again. You said you missed having sex. We’re going to do this every night. You’ll suck my cock, then I’ll fuck you.” He groaned as I pumped my mouth bahis firmaları over his hard cock. “Where did this skill come from, wife? Now, bend over the sofa back. I’m going to fuck you that way, again.”

I released his cock and walked to the back of the sofa. I leaned over the back and spread my feet wide and waited. I saw him sit back down, remove his shoes, then stand and remove his pants. He came up behind me, sliding his cock head along my cunt until he found my opening. Then he grabbed my hips, like last night, and drove forward as he pulled my hips back toward him. His penetration was deep and instant. I came on his cock, again.

That became our routine. After dinner, I sucked him hard, then he fucked me. Almost every time it was the same. He took me bent over something. If not the sofa, it was the dinner table or leaning against the side of the bed. It was as if looking into my face and eyes might be too personal. Or, he just wanted a cunt to put his cum and now that was how he saw me.

A few days later, the call came. Mr. Iyer was sending the car for me. I was to dress appropriately and there was no need for me to pack anything. Anything I would need would be provided at his home. This time, Swapnil picked me up at the lobby door. No more pretending what was happening, everything was out in the open, at least to those in the know.

I waited anxiously as the car approached the entrance to the Western Expressway. With his full attention to the merging traffic, Swapnil spoke calmly, “You will get undressed now, Mrs. Sinha.” Once in the flow of traffic, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw I was looking at him questioningly. “Now, Mrs. Sinha. His expectations have not changed. You are away from your husband and you will be submissive to him now. That was the understanding, correct?”

I shifted in the seat as I had learned to do with my knees on the seat facing backward to unwrap the material from around me. I piled it to one side, then removed my top. I took my position in the middle of the seat between the two bucket seats of the front and glanced into the rearview mirror. I found Swapnil watching, glancing at the road, but watching. When I parted my legs wide, he smiled. When I dropped my fingers to my exposed cunt, he nodded, then punched a speed dial on the Bluetooth. Swapnil alerted someone that we were on our way.

This time, he did not pull off the expressway to the remote location. When he did pull off, he stayed on well-maintained roads. As the car moved down the roads leading out of the bustling city into a rural setting remarkably near the city, my mind raced over the preceding months and days that brought me to this moment with my fingers in my cunt in the backseat of a car heading to a man’s home who I had gravely misjudged.

There was no doubt about what he had proposed to Prakash or why. He had manipulated me into feeling trust and desire for a life that should have sent warning signs flashing in my head: If it seems too good to be true, it must be. Now that it has been started, though, there would be no going back to what I had. Would I find that what I used to have, but disliked, was better? Prakash had already shown change, but I had no idea yet if it was good or bad. Mr. Iyer was certainly different than the man I thought I had known and I was having trouble thinking that it could be good. No, there was no doubt about what he had proposed or was expecting. I was to be a submissive slut and bitch to himself, Swapnil, and his dogs. And, there was the very real implication that my slut and bitch boundaries could be expanded to his desire and wish. There could be a fine line between slut, concubine/mistress, and whore. I was not going to be only for his appreciation, so the mistress label didn’t seem to apply. Slut and/or whore, then. According to Mr. Iyer, a submissive slut was one who celebrated in her sexuality and ability to please others. He believed when I embraced my inner submissive self, I would find the fulfillment and deep satisfaction I have craved. It just was looking different now than it did before.

I already understood that my deepest desires were to please and serve and the frustrations of my life had awakened deep cravings inside me that needed, demanded, to be fulfilled. That deep craving had been shown to me in the recent months of exploration and culminated in Mr. Iyer turning the tables on Prakash and me. My submissive nature, in combination with my deep sexual craving, could be a compelling life experience, according to him. It was impossible for me to imagine what this might lead me to do and accept about myself. That element of unknown produced hesitancy, trepidation, and fear. But, there was no turning back, now.

Swapnil briefly described the other member of Mr. Iyer’s household, his housekeeper and cook, Jesi Bulsara. I would be meeting her shortly. Like Mr. Iyer, she was widowed a number of years before. Her function was to take care of the house, it was a responsibility I would assist her in when I was there. I knew a lot depended on her response and acceptance of me. She was used to being in charge of the house, schedules, and activities. In the house, she was like Swapnil was to Mr. Iyer in the other parts of his life.

We had driven up to a remotely controlled gate, a sign indicating, “Mumbai Kennels and Stables, Ltd.”. That certainly fits with his brief description of this property. Swapnil saw my interest in the sign and the security. “The property is quite large. People bring their priced bitches here for breeding from many countries. There is also general kenneling in a separate building. Horses are stabled here with a riding arena for training and learning.” He looked at me and winked. I wasn’t sure what that meant. I smiled back at him, hoping I wasn’t giving him any message I didn’t intend.

He wound down a snaking roadway lined with trees, shrubs, and flowers. He said the delivery and staff traffic entered by a separate gate. This was for residents, clients, and guests only. I could see the main road curve to the left, but we continued to the right to a large grouping of trees that blocked everything behind them. As the car went through the trees, a large grassy area with islands of shrubs and flowers surrounded by more trees opened to my gaze. At the center was a large two-story home. A large garage building was to the left and a flowing fountain was directly opposite the front entrance to the house. The walls were a concrete-type material, huge windows were everywhere, and the roof was red clay tiles.

As we pulled up to the front door, Mr. Iyer and a woman are waiting at the top of the four steps. At the bottom of the steps are two men. “Swapnil, who are those men?”

“They work for Mr. Iyer, Mrs. Sinha.” Mrs. Sinha, he keeps saying that, not my first name. It hits me. It is a ploy to drive the situation home. I am no longer the woman they are merely assisting in experimenting. I am a perabet married woman reduced to being a submissive slut.

It is obvious, but I can’t hold the question back, “I have to arrive in front of them naked?”

He didn’t laugh or even smile in the rearview mirror, but his eyes connected with mine. “He wishes to make it plain what your position here is, Mrs. Sinha.”

Oh, he’s making that very clear, indeed. I’m his submissive slut that he feels he can control into doing anything he desires. And, I suppose, he is correct, too.

As Swapnil opened my door, they came down the steps. I was marveling at the house. A private home like that didn’t exist in the main part of the city. There was just no room for such a structure, not to mention the grounds. But, despite being impressed by the house, I couldn’t ignore that I was standing alongside the car completely naked in front of these two strange men and the woman descending the steps with Mr. Iyer. My fear all along had been that I might be seen in my exhibitionist play either at the window or in the Park. Now, here I am fully exposed and there was nothing I could do about it.

As they came to a stop in front of me, I looked tentatively at the woman. Then, my eyes shifted to the men before going back to Mr. Iyer.

“Deepti, this is Jesi Bulsara. As much as I have the say over my businesses, she has say over everything regarding the house.” Jesi Bulsara was in her mid-50’s with smooth light, brown skin. Her face was soft and gentle, her eyes peered out partially squinting with dark pupils. Her hair was dark and worn to her shoulders. She was 5’ 3” tall and about 155 pounds, maybe an inch shorter and 15 pounds heavier than me. She was an attractive, mature woman who carried herself with pride and confidence. As Swapnil had told me, her husband died some years ago and found Mr. Iyer in need of help. She has been with him ever since.

She appraised me. Without turning her attention from me, “I like the look of her, Venkat. The dogs like her?”

I saw him nod. “Very much. She enjoys them, too.”

“While in the house, you will only wear the saree. As you can see, I wear them, also.” She smiled. “Though, yours will be different from mine. Yours will be quite sheer and you will wear nothing else underneath, not even the top.” She now looked at Mr. Iyer, “What could be sluttier than wearing a traditional garment while being exposed.” He nodded as she turned to return to the house. Whether they had discussed that previously or not, it was obvious that he approved.

He then indicated the two men. My gaze fell on them, again, and I found them still appraising me, but in that way men can that seems chilling and degrading at the same time.

They were Kabir and Ishaan. Kabir was the older being in his mid-40’s, average height and a little heavier than average. He was in charge of all the dog kennels for Mr. Iyer. Ishaan was a decade younger in his mid-30’s, average height and weight. He reported to Kabir but was responsible for the breeder kennels where I assumed Sheru and Balaji were housed. Both were dark skinned with dark hair, though Kabir’s had some grey on the temples.

Mr. Iyer introduced us. They didn’t seem to know what to do when introduced to a naked woman so they simply stood there and continued to eye my body. It wasn’t until Mr. Iyer dismissed them, indicating they would be seeing more of me, that they broke their gaze with me, turned to him, nodded and left for the direction I assumed the kennels were.

“You will be seeing more of them, too. I know it seemed I allowed the dogs free rein with you in the Park, but they are quite valuable dogs and I don’t want them to be accidentally released while you are mating with them. One of those men will be overseeing your mating times. You may also find them interested in sampling your cunt, too.”

As we stood outside his house, he continued to familiarize me with the situation. First, he owns a vast array of diverse business. His effort to be semi-retired led him to the conclusion that he should find the very best people to represent him and guarantee their loyalty with the power and resources to deliver results. He also pays those people better than they could find anywhere else. He did the same within his household. He lives in a large house on the property of a kennel and a****l housing and training facility. This was his retreat from his other businesses. His household was small, Swapnil and Jesi, a widowed woman who was cook/housekeeper. To guarantee stability and unity, he established accounts for them, funded and managed to create their own wealth and security in life if they were to ever wish to leave. It occurred to me that he bought them, as well.

Sexuality was my defining identity, he made that perfectly clear. He explained how he saw my life with him. That was encompassed by sex. It would be my primary role. As a submissive, he envisioned an open, relaxed, and compliant sexual response at all times to every need. My desires and cravings would be refined, developed, and expanded beyond any expectation I or he might now have. Happiness in life is found by being able to exploit deep desires and enjoyment into parts of your life. Complete fulfillment in life is found by making those deep desires and craving your life.

My role would mostly include himself, Swapnil, and anyone he instructed me to please. It would include being a bitch to his high-priced breeding dogs of which he had quite a few. Other a****ls in the facility may be expected to evolve into play as my sexuality expanded by challenge and his desire.

As a sexual being, my dress would be exposing whenever possible. He personally found the tease of a light covering more intriguing than complete nudity. If I was dressed, it would always be in a saree. The kind of material, the use of a top, petticoat, or underwear would be at his direction. He made it clear from the start that the sarees would most generally be very sheer. I would be exposed and I would wear it as he directed regardless of who else might be in attendance.

I was introduced to the house. It’s a grand home with living room, formal dining room, kitchen, dinette area, and study on the lower floor. On the second floor were four bedrooms, each with its own bathroom and a corner of the house allowing windows on two sides. The bedrooms were for Mr. Iyer, Swapnil, and Jesi. The other room was for a guest. When I was there, I would join in the bed of one of them. I was to find that it would generally be with Swapnil and his sexual interest with me was frequent during the night.

I wasn’t introduced to the dogs until late afternoon of the first day. To that point, Jesi showed me the sarees I was to wear. To say they were sheer was an understatement. My tits were on display and working at cleaning around the house would often cause the material to loosen, sometimes fully exposing my tit.

When I was taken to the kennel, I was told to undress. perabet giriş I was marched to the kennel naked except for shoes on my feet. Swapnil showed me the way and brought me to the area where Ishaan worked. I thought I was finally going to feel the mating of a dog, again. Instead, I was leaned over the desk and my feet kicked to be further opened. Ishaan opened his pants and drove his already hard cock into my cunt.

“She is already wet. Was she anticipating the dogs or me?” He laughed as he thrust his cock into me. Swapnil stood to the side without comment. It seemed everything was to be an additional humiliation and degradation.

It didn’t take him long to dump his seed into my cunt. He then fastened his pants and took my arm and led me down the aisle of dog runs along each side. He asked me if I preferred a dog to start with. He was to keep a record of my mating with the dogs. I mumbled the first name I thought of, Sheru. He brought the dog out into the commons area between the runs. There was set up, already, a thick mat on the floor and he indicated that I should go to it. As I knelt on the mat waiting for the dog, the feeling of being a bitch swept over me. He gave me a direction and I complied, waiting for the dog to come to me and mate with me. But, when Sheru did, all the rest of it melted away as the feeling of being mounted by a dog returned to me.

“What have you learned?” I heard something to the side, but I didn’t hear enough to want to focus on it. The conversation didn’t apply to me and I was too involved with Sheru.

“She was quite forthcoming, sir. It would seem that her husband had been making her suck him hard each night after dinner, then he fucks her. That would seem to be it, however.”

Mr. Iyer sighed. “I think that man is quite the disappointment. I showed him what a submissive slut his wife was. I stripped her in front of him. She put a bottle inside her, she was fucked. His wife! All in his presence. And, that’s all? I was expecting he would take more action than that.”

“You want him to abuse her? You told him not to hurt her, sir.”

“I told him not to mark her. Not to mark her.” He watched me under the dog, it climaxed in me and I cried out in orgasm. As the dog turned on me and I was recovering, “Swapnil, bring him here tomorrow. Call when you have him here. Let’s let him see her with her precious dogs.” He chuckled and walked away. Swapnil watched him leave, turned back to look at me. I looked up just at that moment to wonder, for an instant, what that concerned look was about.

* * * * *

“Okay, you said I had to come with you and here we are. You said Mr. Iyer had something important for me. Why are we just sitting in the car?”

“Patience, Mr. Sinha. In just a moment.” Swapnil wasn’t quite sure what was happening, either. He had called from the main gate to announce their arrival and was told to park the car under the trees by the entrance to the kennel and to wait. They were not to leave the car until signaled. So, they waited.

“There you are, Mr. Sinha. This is the beginning of what Mr. Iyer wished for you to see. Just a few moments, now.”

Prakash looked out the windshield in the direction Swapnil had indicated. His view was blocked by a bush on his side of the car, then he saw her. His wife, naked, walking from the house to the kennel next to an Indian he had never seen before. She seemed relaxed as she walked and he could see her turning to him as he spoke to her. Whatever he had said, she responded with a nod of her head. She never looked toward the car, but the man did glance their way and smiled.

Soon after, Mr. Iyer appeared following them. He held up his hand in a clear indication for them to remain in the car for a moment longer. It was more than a moment and Prakash was becoming more nervous and concerned as he waited. The other man appeared at the door and appeared to be fastening his pants as he waved to them. Swapnil opened his door and Prakash followed.

The bright sun outside made seeing when he stepped into the kennel difficult. In the moments for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior, he heard sounds and images on the floor between the two rows of dog enclosures. As his pupil opened to allow sufficient light, the scene before him became clear. His wife, his naked wife he had seen walking outside, was underneath a dog that was humping her with more energy and determination than he had ever imagined. Not only that, though, the sounds he had heard was the moaning and gasping and sighs of pleasure coming from his wife.

He watched, stunned by what he found before his eyes. Then, “Oh, God, YES! Oh, you fucking b**st, yes, give me your knot.”

Not only was she being fucked by this dog, she was enjoying it. In fact, she was enjoying it with more enthusiasm than she had ever expressed with him.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it? Your wife does enjoy the dogs.” Mr. Iyer was really enjoying this part. Another opportunity to put this excuse of a man down another notch. He had control of him and all but owned his wife. But Prakash still hadn’t come to grips with taking his role in the further degradation and humiliation of his wife. Sucking and fucking? No, his Deepti wanted to experience more … much more. She just didn’t know what she had opened up for herself.

“Why did you do this?”

“Not me, Prakash. No, no … this was her. I only happened upon her cravings. It was accidental on my part that she began using my dogs for her pleasure. After I discovered, though, I may have enabled her to experience them. But, it was all her.” Prakash stood frozen in place. “I showed you what a submissive she was. I showed you what a slut she was. Right in front of you, Prakash. Right in front of you, she stripped naked in that room. With a mere suggestion, she put that bottle up her cunt. She allowed Swapnil to fuck her before she left. You discovered that when you fucked her, didn’t you? Of course, you did. But, look at the slut. A dog-bitch. What won’t she do, Prakash?” He turned the man by the shoulders to look at him. “A better question is, what are you going to do with her knowing what she is?”

At that moment, she cried out, orgasming on the dog’s cock and knot. Her upper body fell to the thick mat, her breathing heavy and rapid.

“She doesn’t know that you know about this part of her, does she?” He shook his head. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. He didn’t know if he was furious, outraged … or excited. “Kneel in front of her and make her suck your cock while she is still tied to the dog, while she is trapped and can’t deny what you now know.” Prakash started moving as his hands went to his belt. He was stopped by Mr. Iyer’s voice, “Then, when I send her back to you, you will realize how she should be used. She’ll do anything … just don’t mark her.”

Mr. Iyer’s mouth turned into a devilish sneer as he watched the woman’s husband approaching her. He turned to walk out of the kennel, his scheme completed. Now, he believed she would be degraded and exploited at home, too.

In his self-obsessed enjoyment of the moment, he failed to notice the look of uncertainty, disbelief, and misgiving on Swapnil’s face.

* * CHAPTER THREE will follow * * Thanks for reading.

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