Madhu's Day Out Ch. 02

This is the continuation of Madhu's Day Out Ch. 01. Please read it before venturing into this one.

My helplessness and confusion grew when I felt an impending orgasm growing inside me. Subconsciously, I had been heading back towards the metro station, eager to get away from the market. But now, very consciously, I felt the need to release myself before I could get on the metro for the ride back home.

Pausing momentarily, I took ground of my bearings. I was somewhere in the most crowded inner circle of the market. Again, subconsciously, I started walking towards the middle circle (the least crowded) on one of the radial roads. My heart was thumping excitingly and I was sweating profusely, the only thing on my mind was finding a desolate spot to masturbate myself out of this situation.

Although my Saturday's activities had been going on for a very long period of time, I had never been so aroused that my body had begged for such immediate release. Ordinarily, I would go back to my house in the evening (the evening metro rush adding to my activity), and lock myself in my room pretending to sleep after a tiring day. Then, going through the details of the activities, I would masturbate myself to a couple of orgasms. But today was no ordinary day.

I, Madhu, forgot about the shame I was experiencing a couple of minutes ago and let out a deep sigh of relief as I spotted a thin alleyway between two shops on the radial road.

Hurriedly, I headed into the alleyway, surprised at its presence and realizing the fact that I knew so less about the nodal market even though I visited the place so frequently. It was a sort of service lane to connect to the various shops and big showrooms from the rear side. It went on for as far as I could see, thankfully it was deserted. I found a siding in the alley which was actually a vacant space below one of the buildings. The upper floors made it a bit darker and this hid me from view of anyone in the alley. Only if someone walked right past the siding, would I be visible to that person and that too if he looked carefully in the relatively dark place.

The probability of being sighted masturbating in a service alley of the busiest market in the city did not weigh me down, and that was because I was too obsessed with the thought of actually masturbating there. I was a cent per cent confident that I would finish this new 'activity' and be home-bound in a matter of minutes.

Receding to the deepest part of the siding, I pushed my right hand in between my salwar and my body, pushing at the cord that tied my salwar around my waist. Then I pushed it through the waist band of my panty and I took measure of the copious amount of wetness that had built up in between my legs. The sighting of the book-wallah's penis, the sucking of the four penises in the busy central park and the swallowing of so much semen had excited me like never before.

Salivating at the thought of today's activities which had spiralled out of control, I, Madhu, a housewife of seven years and mother of two children, began to rub my wet vulva as my body begged for release, in some alley in the busiest market of the city. My left hand found its way, through the lower edge of my kurta, to my breasts, which I began to cup and squeeze alternatingly. With my eyes tightly shut, my fingers pinched my semi-hard nipples and my other hand massaged my hard clitoris. I was lost in my own sweet world, until I felt the hot exhale of someone very close to me.

I was so deeply lost in pursuing my new 'activity' that I had failed to notice the appearance of someone I the siding. I opened my eyes as I felt the hot breath of the person who had sneaked up upon me. My mouth opened in shock as I saw the face of the book-wallah just inches away from me, grinning broadly.

"You are one hell of a bitch!" he said.

I recoiled at the sight of him and my left hand came out from beneath my kurta, trying to push him away. My right hand was still inside my salwar, as it was not possible to pull it without loosening the cord with the other hand. I struggled to pull it out at the same time as I was trying to push the book-wallah away.

He caught hold of my left hand and pushed it aside, pinning it and me against the wall with his weight. With his free right hand, he caught hold of my right hand and held it in place.

"Let it remain there for some time," he sniggered, as his face lunged forwards, trying to kiss me on my lips.

I repulsed at the sight of those pouting lips heading towards my mouth and let out a shriek.

"Really? Do you want to shout out, bitch?" he asked, going on to emphasize the condition that I was in.

"You have a hand up against your slutty pussy, you bitch!"

"Please leave me," I managed to reply.

"Why? Why should I leave you, bitch?" he demanded, "Why should you have all the fun?"

Still pinning me in place with his weight, he let go of my right hand and forcefully cupped my left breast. I let out a subdued shriek and he let out a whoop of excitement.

"Where is your bra, bitch?" he demanded excitingly. "Remember, the one you were proudly displaying to me earlier!"

I could not believe the situation that I was in. I shut my eyes as if to withdraw myself from the happenings of the moment.

His hand left my breast and then...SMACK!! SMACK!! He slapped me hard on my left cheek, not once but twice, which opened my eyes and also brought tears to them.

"Please...pl..ease...let me go," I whimpered with tears streaming down my cheeks.

"When I ask a question, I want an answer...do you understand, bitch?"

I nodded meekly.

"So...I asked you, where is your bra?"

I couldn't manage to speak. I couldn't! How could I have told him what had happened in the park earlier?

My mind was completely blank as I struggled to come up with an appropriate reply. I thought maybe I could say something about broken hooks, or...but who was he to demand an answer from me?

SMACK! As soon as I had that thought, another hard slap ripped through the left side of my face.

"I...they took...it! They took it..." I went on to narrate the entire incident that had taken place after I had left his shop, managing to reach the part where I was made to suck four penises.

"What?" he said, unable to hide his surprise.

A broad grin had built up on his face. "So, you are a whore then?"

"NO! No, I'm not! I'm a decent lady!"

"What are you doing here then, with your hand inside your salwar?"

I told him.

His broad grin, which I thought couldn't grow any bigger, became almost double.

"You were masturbating here! You decent lady!" he mocked. "So, let me help you, decent lady!"

His hand reach to the cord of my salwar and undid the knot. The salwar fell to the ground, settling in a heap around my ankles.

"No...please...don't do this!" I whimpered.

"What will you do, decent lady?" he asked, his stare piercing through my eyes, as if reading my thoughts.

"Which decent lady has ever been caught masturbating in a busy market place, decent lady?"

The manner in which he spoke the words 'decent lady' seemed to be very demeaning. I got the same feeling of repulsion on hearing them as I would if someone would call me a whore.

I could do nothing as his right hand cupped my genitals from over my panty, rubbing them crudely, making me wince with pain.

"Please...don't..."

"You better keep quiet, decent lady!"

Letting go of my left hand which he had pinned to the wall, he took his free hand under my salwar and began kneading my breasts. Then he attempted to kiss my lips again, but I turned my head away. He looked at me, stepping back and releasing me for a moment from his grip, and slapped me hard.

SMACK! The slap was so hard that it knocked me off my feet.

"That's what happens when you turn your face away, decent lady!"

Before I could recover from the blow, I felt a tug and he was pulling me on my feet. I fumbled with my salwar heaped at my ankles. Even as I bent down to pull up my salwar, he was half pushing and half pulling me into the alley.

Fumbling, he led me deeper into the alley, with me precariously trying to hold on to my salwar, afraid I might lose another garment.

A few feet down the alley (actually I was unsure of the distance), there was another similar siding. It was a bit bigger and had a plastic sheet separating it from the alley. He pushed me inside and rearranged the sheet. I looked around to see that it was almost like a poor man's hut, there were two dirty mattresses and few household objects.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"This is where a poor book-wallah lives, decent lady."

"I will shout for help if you do anything to me!" I threatened, mustering as much courage as I could.

"I will do anything and everything I wish and you can shout as much as you wish," he sniggered, "but that would just invite other –wallah's who live nearby to the party."

Impulsively, I made a run for the alley but he was too quick for me. Grabbing on to my hair, he pulled me back and held me in a bear hug.

"What's this about, decent lady?" he asked, "earlier you were very eager to show me your goods, now what is the problem?"

Without waiting for a reply or an answer, he pinned my hands behind my back. My salwar, which was being held in place by me, fell down again to around my ankles.

"Please...I do not want to..."

"Shut up, decent lady...I do not care what you want or not! Do you think you are too smart for me...I have seen many bitches like you here! First, you go strutting about this place...showing your breasts and teasing us...what do you think we are? Caged animals? And then, you act all innocent and stuff, as if you are a pristine decent lady, you bitch! I know you are a bitch and I'm going to make you a cheap whore now!"

His violent rambling made me realize that I was now completely at the mercy of this dark middle-aged poor man, the book-wallah.

"Let us begin the action!" he announced, as if to an imaginary audience.

I realized that I had closed my eyes due to fear, disgust or most probably, both. As my eyes were closed, it took me a moment to register that the book-wallah was tugging at the waist band of my panty. Before I could even open my mouth to register a protest, I heard the flimsy stitches on one side of my waist give away. My eyes, now fully open due to shock, saw the remains of my tattered panty being flung away. Even though I was now almost fully naked and in the grasp of a poor low class man, I could not help but feel sad at the state off my expensive lingerie!

I stood transfixed as my fully open eyes saw the projectile journey of my panty. The fact that my black delicate panty landed in a pool of ditch water made me wake up from my reverie.

"Listen bitch! Take off your kurta or it'll meet the same fate as your panty!" he snarled, mouthing drops of spit on my face as he threatened me.

NEVER!! Well, that's what I thought at that moment but no words came out of my mumbling mouth. I, reflexively, began pulling at the lower edge of the kurta, keeping it in place. There was no way that I was going to dance to the whims and fancies of this disgusting illiterate man!

"Well...if you want to go home naked...then I can't help you..." his voice trailed off as he tugged the kurta on my right shoulder, "Let me get this off you in one go!"

"Pl...please....pl....don't do this!" I whimpered between sobs. Tears were now freely pouring out of my eyes, lamenting at my helplessness. Either I had to give in to this brute's demand, and stoop myself to a disgrace I had never even dreamt of or...the alternative made me shiver. It was better not to think about what would happen if the book-wallah tore off my kurta. The only garment that I would have in such a condition would be my salwar, which was heaped around my ankles.

Scared by the prospect of being left naked in the busiest market of the city, my hands, the same ones which were pulling down at the edge of my kurta, now pulled it off my bra-less body in one rapid motion.

Impulsively, I brought the kurta in front of my body and tried to hide my breasts by folding my hands in front of them. I realized that now fully naked in a lane behind the market, my tears had dried up.

The book-wallah snatched the kurta away from me and tossed it aside. Thankfully, it ended up well short of the ditch in which the remains of my panty now floated. The sight of my milky white breasts, with pinkish-brown nipples and areolae, had buoyed the spirits of the book-wallah. I could feel the heat of lust radiate from his body and saw the building of saliva in his unhygienic mouth. I was his treat and it was his duty to devour me.

Kneading my breasts with both his hands, he began to throw obscenities at me.

"What a delicious bitch I have here! You were meant to be a whore! High-class slut, I'll show you how a real man fucks!" he snarled in between his laborious breaths.

His right hand left my breast and travelled down to between my legs. As soon as it reached my vulva, both the book-wallah and me, were shocked. My pussy was dripping wet!

He let out a roar of laughter as I dropped my head in shame.

"So, decent lady! What do we have here?" he sniggered.

The fright of the past few minutes had drawn the earlier events of my 'activities' away from my mind. My exhibitionism to the same book-wallah who was molesting me now (and was surely going to rape me in a few minutes), the four blowjobs in the crowded garden, the hijacking of my bra and the desire to bring myself to orgasm, came rushing back to mind. My knees gave way as I realized that my vulval lips were twitching for a cock!

Still sniggering, he said, "Looks like you have had enough of foreplay! Now turn around and I'll show you how to fuck a bitch in heat!"

I listened to his order and my mind refused to oblige.

And...SMACK!! I felt it coming even before he had raised his hand.

"Lesson number one, a nice whore is prompt to the demands of her fucker," he said, and without waiting for a response, lifted me effortlessly off the ground by grasping at my waist and turned me around.

The sudden jerk of the motion made my hands seek the support of the wall in front of me (which earlier had been behind me). I felt his hand on my back, pushing me down. This made my already prominent ass jut out and become even more prominent.

"This is what I call nice meat," he said, smacking my ass cheeks with the palm of his right hand. He continued smacking them for a good minute or so, I could feel them glow red due to the attacks.

"Please...don't do this...it hurts..." I managed to mouth out in between smacks.

"Lesson number two, a nice whore does not object to anything her fucker says or does," he said, but thankfully, stopped spanking me.

My thankfulness was replaced by disgust as I realized what was coming next.

He forced my thighs apart with his right hand. My head was hanging in between my arms, which were supporting me against the wall. I could see my salwar heaped around my ankles from that position. I felt bile rise in my throat when I saw that his lungi now occupied the place adjacent to my salwar. I gagged at the thought that the book-wallah was now naked too, right behind me.

My eyes snapped shut, my teeth clenched, I tried my best not to vomit and held my breath, as I felt the tip of his penis rubbing at the wet lips of my vulva. Even though my vulva was dripping wet, I could make out that his glans was soaking with precum as it released a sort of heat when it came in contact with my moist vulval lips.

It may have been the stress, the fear or the helplessness of the moment, but whenever I replay the scene in my mind, I realize that it was me who had thrust my hips back, just slightly, to welcome the budging head of the book-wallah's penis into the folds of my vulval lips and further inside my going- to-be-defiled body.

My body was thrown forwards as the book-wallah slid his erect penis into my vagina. I had felt his body tense for the forceful lunge into my womanhood, however, the combination of my dripping wet vulva and his precum soaked glans made it seem like a walkover. In one violently smooth motion, he was embedded inside me right till his base.

AAGHHH!! I heard his loud moan of pleasure as he gently rotated his pelvis, as if to get a good feel of the inside of my vagina. But, that was the end of the gentleness that he had in store for me, his decent lady!

Enraged by a sudden animalistic lust, the book-wallah grabbed me powerfully at my right shoulder with his right hand, pulling my body backwards towards him. His left hand was wrapped tightly around my waist, below the level of my navel. I could feel the coarse hair on his arms scrape uncomfortably against my smooth skin. Satisfied with his clasping hold on my body, the book-wallah began fucking me in powerful, jerky and dominant strokes which made me scream out in pain.

NAHHIIIII!!!! NOOOO....!! PL...EASE....NA!!!!

My begging did not fall on deaf ears as he did respond to it, but that was only to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. With each thrust that the book-wallah took inside me, my whole body was pushed forwards, only to meet the resistance of his right hand on my shoulder, and bounce back towards his lunging penis. Thus, even without my participation in the seemingly random to-and-fro motion, my body was meeting his thrusts half-way.

"Shout and I'm sure couple of other –wallahs will join me here!" he snarled in between his thrusts, "That's what you want, don't you bitch? To be bred by low class people?"

Even though I wasn't able to hear the whole of his sentence, the word 'bred' reverberated in my ears. SHIT! The realization of the situation hit me harder than the book-wallahs powerful thrusts. This low class shit-of-a-man was going to impregnate me, a married housewife and a mother of two children, a woman of considerable social standing and repute.

I simply couldn't let that happen! Immediately my body sprang into action, twisting and coiling, trying to free myself from the vicious grip of my rapist.

"Excited you have I?" he sniggered, his thrusts not even pausing momentarily.

"Please do not come inside me," I pleaded, tears returned to my eyes as I realized that I could not muster my way out of the grip he had on me, "Please...don't do this...I may get pregnant!"

The thought of getting a high class lady pregnant, the fact that he was going to ejaculate his semen inside the vagina of a married woman, drove the book-wallah into an even more violent rage. His left hand left my waist and grasped my breasts, such that my right breast was in his palm while the left one was being squeezed by his forearm. His grip around my breasts was stronger than the one he had held on my waist, making me wince in pain on the top of the forceful thrusts.

Kneading my right breast with the palm of his left hand, the book-wallah was in his wonderland.

He let go of my right shoulder and his right hand also came to the region of my breasts. Now both his hands were gripping my breasts on either side, strong enough to make me realize their presence. My hands were still supporting me against the wall, although his forceful fucking had brought me a lot closer to the wall than what I had originally been. So his only grip on me were his hands (on my breasts), and obviously his penis (deep inside me). I felt him lean in such that there was no gap between our bodies. I realized that he had unbuttoned his shirt because I could feel the hair on his chest pricking at my back.

Still sobbing, I continued to whimper my requests of not ejaculating inside my unprotected vagina.