My phone buzzed urgently, its screen lighting up with Di’s contact photo�a smiling, impeccably dressed woman who looked like the epitome of a gentle, sanskari elder sister. I grabbed it. It was 11 PM, the agreed-upon time for the secret call.
“Hello?” I whispered into the phone, pulling the blanket over my head to muffle the sound, even though my fiancé was miles away from Mumbai.
Shhh. Haan, Suno. My nanad ( her younger sister in law) isn't at home. We can talk now. I’ve finalized everything for your bachelorette, Di’s voice came through, low and taut, vibrating with an intensity that was completely absent from her usual polite tone.
“You sound... excited, Di, ” I murmured, a nervous giggle escaping me. “What have you planned? A spa day? A trip to Goa?”
A dry, almost wicked chuckle answered me. “Goa is for teenagers, bchhu. This is your last night of ‘freedom, ’ and frankly, my only night of freedom in years. This is going to be a confession of everything we’ve denied ourselves. It’s going to be rough. Brutal. Exactly what we need.”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “Rough? You keep saying that. Define ‘rough, ’ Di. You’re married, remember? Mrs. Tiwari, the gentle and sanskari bahu.”
“That sweet sanskari bahu of that family is starved, yaar. Your jiju is posted in Assam, and I’m alone in this house, thinking about things that would make our parents faint. My nanad is going back to Chennai for her college. So my house will be empty from end of November. Soundproof. And the guests...” Her voice dropped further, becoming a seductive purr. “We need to arrange seven- eight of them. Huge, muscular men. Or any men, boys, uncles, any who are willing but should treat this as no strings attached, maybe. But haa, they should be a dom ( dominating ).They look like they haven’t heard the word ‘gentle’ in their lives. They’re here to use us, degrade us, humiliate us.”
A sharp gasp escaped me. “Seven to eight? Di! That’s... a lot. And you’re organizing this? You, the innocent one?”
“Hush. Chup yaar. That innocence is just wrapping paper, bchhu. Tonight, I’m tearing it off. You already know that how much I crave for a good sex. Your jiju ( her husband) is in Assam and I live alone in Delhi. And whenever he comes, he doesn't seem interested in sex. Also I have told you many times that he doesn't last more than 5 mins."
"We should somehow find and told them our terms. They are not to be polite. They are not to ask permission. We are their property for the night. Their randis. They can abuse us, use us, call us whatever filthy names they want�kutiya, saali, besharam�and we must obey.”
My breath hitched. My core was already throbbing, responding to the raw authority in her voice. “Obey... even if they hurt us?”
“Especially if they hurt us, ” she corrected firmly. “We would told them to tie us up. To use gags. To make sure we can’t speak, only moan and scream. I want them to treat you like a cheap whore, bchhu. And me? Me, they must break. They must take this perfect, milfy body and cover it in their filth. They must make me beg for their lunds.”
“Uff!”I let out a choked sound. The image of my composed, beautiful elder sister, tied up and begging, sent a dizzying wave of lust through me. “You’re the organizer, Di. What’s the first thing they’re going to do to you?”
A low, guttural moan, a sound I had never heard from her before, came through the line. “I have a scene that I’ll be waiting for them in the hall. Properly dressed in traditional saree with my mangalsutra on my neck and sindur over my head., I will have a blindfold. And when they enter, they are to grab me, strip me, pull me back by my hair, and force me to my knees. And then, they will make me suck them. All eight of them. One after the other. They must fill my mouth, my throat, until I’m gagging on their lunds.”
" They will use this desi sanskari housewife. They will play with my mangalsutra. With my sindur and make my sacred marriage a complete worthless thing. They gonna degrade my marriage".
“It feels right. Don’t lie. Imagine it. They’ll surround me. 8 strangers, sweaty men. They’ll grab me. Rough hands tearing at my hair, pulling me back. They’ll force me to my knees. They’ll make me lick their cocks clean, one by one. And I'll l do it. I'll be begging them to let me.”
Aahhh! Di, stop! I can’t breathe!” I gripped the blanket tighter, my body already shaking. “And me? Where will I be?”
“You’ll be watching, meri jaan. You’ll be tied to a chair nearby wearing the bride to be sashe, forced to witness your elder sister being utterly violated. They’ll make you watch me moan, watch me take their cocks, watch them cover my face in their cum. And you’ll be so hard, so wet, that when they finally turn to you, you’ll be screaming for them to take you too.”
“Gangbang?” I managed to whisper, the word thick with anticipation.
“Of course, gangbang. They’ll use us simultaneously. They’ll have me bent over a table, my chut and my ass open for two of them, while the others play with my breasts and mouth. They’ll pound into me, rough and fast, their heavy bodies slamming against mine. I want to hear the shlicking sound of flesh against flesh, the wet slaps of their balls against my ass. And you’ll be right next to me, taking three or four cocks at once, until we’re both nothing but cum-filled holes.”
"They’ll tie our hands behind our back, maybe. They’ll slap their massive balls against our faces while we are sucking them. They’ll abuse us, call us filthy names�kutiya, saali, randi�and we’ll just moan and take it.”
"We’ll be sharing them. They’ll gangbang us. They’ll have you bent over the sofa, your ass in the air, while two of them pound you�one in your tight chut, one in your ass. And I’ll be right there, watching, maybe taking a third cock in my mouth, just soaking in the sight of elder sister being completely dominated.”
“This is what happens when you finally let go, bchhu. They’ll be filling you up. Their thick, hard cocks�lunds�pumping into us until our insides are dripping with cum. They’ll pull out and ejaculate all over our face, our breasts. They’ll make us lick it up.
I asked her that will they ask to kiss us together and eat their cum.won’t they?”
"Oh, yes. Yes, please, babu, ” she begged, using my pet name. Her breath was coming in short, gasping bursts, like she was already under their hands. “I want them to be dirty. I want them to spit on me. I want them to treat me like a piece of meat. I need them to fill this emptiness inside me. My husband... he’s so far. I need this release. I need to be taken.”
I told her - " And you will be. They’ll make sure you cum until you’re shaking and crying. They’ll lift you up, carry you, and toss you onto the bed. Then they’ll start the rotation. They’ll use every hole, every inch of you. They’ll make you moan their names, the names of strangers, while they pound you into the mattress.”
"Mmmmnnhhh...The thought of so many cocks... so much filling me up... Your jiju used to say I was too tight. I want them to stretch me. I want them to tear me open, ” she whispered, her voice laced with a raw, desperate need.
" Wish they won’t stop until we’re both bruised, sore, and completely satisfied. They’ll leave us in the morning, exhausted, sticky, and utterly fulfilled. This shouldn't be just a party. It should be a baptism. A confession of our true, wicked desires. She added.”
Her voice was rising now, losing its hushed quality, gaining a frantic, desperate edge. She was already living the fantasy. “I think we should tell them to use their spit. To use rough language. To treat us like animals. I want them to grab my tight little chut and ram their danda in so hard that I scream, ‘Maa!’ I want them to leave bruises. I need the pain to remind me I’m alive, that I’m being used, that I’m a filthy slut.”
“Oh, God. Di, I want that too. I want them to be brutal, ” I confessed, the words tumbling out, fueled by her explicit planning. “I want them to use me until I can’t walk. I want to wake up the next day sore and sticky, knowing I was their property for the night.”
“And you will be. We both will be. This is our secret. Our confession. We’re going to give them permission to be the monsters we need them to be. We’re going to be so humiliated, so degraded, that we’ll never forget this night. Imagine them getting the choice of banging and railing two sisters together. One will be unmarried and one is married. Same genes but different bodies. Different ages and age gaps”. Her breathing was ragged, punctuated by sharp, excited inhalations. “I’m going to be the leader of this filth, and you’re going to be my willing accomplice. Are you ready to surrender, little one?
A shaky laugh escaped me, mixed with a sob of desperate need. “Ready, Di. More than ready. I’m yours. We’re theirs. Tell me what I need to wear.”
“Nothing. Just a flimsy saree or a tshirt n jeans, maybe. Something they can rip off in one motion. No jewelry. No panties. Just your ready, waiting body. Now all you need is to find such male. Even i will be looking at it.No turning back now. This is our fate.”
“Theek hai. Your house, 7 to 8 men. No mercy, ” I confirmed, a deep, satisfied hum resonating in my chest. The gentle, innocent Di was gone. In her place was a hungry, powerful woman who was about to orchestrate the most brutal, erotic night of our lives. She hung up, leaving me alone in the dark, trembling with anticipation for the confession we were about to live out.
The stakes are impossibly high�Di’s marriage, my impending one, and our own sanity�but the thrill of absolute surrender is worth every risk.