This is a true life story. No fantasies. No ifs and buts. Just plain old sex. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.
I am a Mallu, highly educated (post-graduate, if you please) and working as a senior officer with a MNC bank in Bombay. The story I’m going to write happened about 3 years back – when I was just under 30. I have been married for three years by that time. Quite unusual for a mallu, I married outside my community. Infact to a marathi – ghati, as they call in Bombay. My wife – Smrithi- was working with me for few years and then as they say in stories – love happened after many a sights. We were happily married – steaming sex and all that, but slowly boredom was creeping in. You knew that by the way sex happened. Instead of anywhere- anytime, it was slowly boiling down to once a week straight missionary sex – only on our bed.
Then, my Mom came from Kerala and stayed with us for a few weeks. Before you guys think that’s this is another incestuous fantasy, nothing like that. My mom was sad at seeing smrithi working so hard and coming home and then having to do all the household chores. Not that I’m a MCP not helping around at house…just that my work kept me late at office and by the time I reach home, it’s normally pretty late. So, to cut along story short, my mother suggested that she get us a live-in maid from kerala who’ll stay with us and help us. Smrithi was initially luke warm to this idea; but after a bit of cajoling from me and some emotional stuff from my mom, she reluctantly agreed.
So. My mom went back and called after a few days saying she has found some body for us. A 30 something female called Ambika. She was apparently married and divorced; no kids though. So. She agreed to send Ambika to Bombay by the kurla express and the deal was that smrithi and I would pick her up from the kurla station and bring her to our home. We had a small 1-room apartment at cuffe parade that time. The train reaches kurla at about 8AM and smrithi and I went to kurla to pick this ambika babe up. As luck would have it, when we reached the station we were told that train was delayed due to some derailments on the way and it is now expected only at 1pm. That was throwing all our morning plans out of gear. Smrithi had to attend office at any cost that day and so I volunteered top go to the station again at 1 pm and pick up this servant babe.
So, here I’m a guy of 30 waiting in the afternoon heat at kurla waiting for a woman I’ve never seen in my life…only identification was berth no. 29 in coach s-4. After the train chugged in, I went in search of s-4 compartment and found a dusky lady of about 30 sitting in berth no. 29. I spoke to her in mallu and confirmed that she’s ambika. She was wearing a light blue printed saree and my roving eye did catch the sumptuous breasts under the saree. She was a bit hesitant about seeing me alone as she was expecting a couple to pick her up and not a single male. So, we went home – I showed her around the place, left some instructions about what to do and what not to do and went to my office. On my way to office, I realized that something was amiss from my normal routine. I couldn’t figure that out, initially. Then, it slowly dawned on me. I was looking at all my female colleagues with a different eye. That I was horny. Plain simple horny. Ambika had done this to me. Having realized the problem, I set my mind to work and then went home. My wife was home by that time and she was talking to ambika. She was giving her instructions about where to sleep, what to wear etc. Ambika was told to wear only sarees (my wife hates gowns) and sleep in the kitchen itself as we have a small 1-bed flat. There was only one loo in the house and as such we had to share our loo with her.
Next day in the morning, my wife left home at 6 am as she had to go to pune by road to attend some company meeting. She was coming back only late in the night. I woke up leisurely and in my usual style yelled for a cup of coffee and went to the loo. I guess I forgot to lock the door and suddenly, there was some commotion in the house and I turned back to see ambika lying on the floor as she slipped on some small rug lying on the floor. I ran out of the loo and went to help her. She was all sprawled on the floor and was writhing in pain as she seems to have sprained some ankle. I tried to help her to get up and she yelled in pain. I carried her to the sofa and got her to lie down. She was pointing to her ankle and crying. I gave her some pain balm, but nothing seems to improve her condition. I just pressed her ankle and kept it pressed. That was somewhat alleviating her pain. I had kept her ankle o my lap and suddenly I realized that I had the same problem as in the previous day. I was plain simple horny. And her ankle on my lap didn’t help things either. I slowly massaged here ankles and turned her feet so that her ankles were touching my dick. Oh, that feeling was great.
Slowly, I started rubbing her ankles again and slowly started moving my hands up her legs. I guess she realized what was happening and was trying to get up. But my hands were strong and I looked her straight into her eyes. She mumbled something about “chichi” (mallu for sister) probably meaning what my wife will think. I said she’s in pune and wouldn’t be back till late night. Suddenly, she started crying and said that since her husband divorced her few years back, she ahs been without any male company and all my rubbing of her ankles have made her creamy. I quizzed her further on her divorce and it slowly came out that he left her because of problems in their sexual relations. He was no good in bed and t her repeated entreaties for fun at night, he used to abuse her saying you’re a whore. I liked that and asked her – would you actually like to be a whore??? She was quite taken aback and after much persuasion, came out saying she enjoyed sex very much…it’s just that her husband was no-good. I told her to forget about that and start a new life with me and Smrithi. Smrithi? – she wondered. How does my wife fit in with her being a whore? Won’t she throw me out the moment she comes to know that I’m fooling around with you. I asked her to leave that to me and said let’s start a whore training session for you right away.
With that I carried her to our bed room and threw her onto the bed. Her ankle pain and all that was gone by now. Like a lion pouncing onto a lamb, I just pounced on her and started pulling her saree. She tried to hold on to it for dear life, but my strong hands were no match for her. She was lying on my bed with just a blouse and petticoat. Her boobs were staring to get out of her blouse. I just squeezed them roughly and she yelled out in pain. I cried – whore…you’ll be our sex slave from today. You’ll do whatever I or smrithi asks her to do . no questions asked. Then, I had some violent sex with her and just before I came, I took my dick out of her cunt and asked her to kiss me. She turned her face in revulsion and I just yanked her hair. Bitch, do this or you better go back to kerala in the next morning train. She dutifully started kissing my dick and with some prodding from me, started sucking me off. I came in her mouth and she couldn’t drink all of my cream. It was leaking from the corners of her lips and it was a great sight. I took out my handycam and started shooting her face. She got frightened and started crying… I said, don’t worry I just wanted to record it for smrithi’s sake.
Smrithi? She again asked in bewilderment.
Interested enough to hear about the second part of the story (or rather incident) in which smrithi and I used ambika as our full fledged sex slave.
I am a Mallu, highly educated (post-graduate, if you please) and working as a senior officer with a MNC bank in Bombay. The story I’m going to write happened about 3 years back – when I was just under 30. I have been married for three years by that time. Quite unusual for a mallu, I married outside my community. Infact to a marathi – ghati, as they call in Bombay. My wife – Smrithi- was working with me for few years and then as they say in stories – love happened after many a sights. We were happily married – steaming sex and all that, but slowly boredom was creeping in. You knew that by the way sex happened. Instead of anywhere- anytime, it was slowly boiling down to once a week straight missionary sex – only on our bed.
Then, my Mom came from Kerala and stayed with us for a few weeks. Before you guys think that’s this is another incestuous fantasy, nothing like that. My mom was sad at seeing smrithi working so hard and coming home and then having to do all the household chores. Not that I’m a MCP not helping around at house…just that my work kept me late at office and by the time I reach home, it’s normally pretty late. So, to cut along story short, my mother suggested that she get us a live-in maid from kerala who’ll stay with us and help us. Smrithi was initially luke warm to this idea; but after a bit of cajoling from me and some emotional stuff from my mom, she reluctantly agreed.
So. My mom went back and called after a few days saying she has found some body for us. A 30 something female called Ambika. She was apparently married and divorced; no kids though. So. She agreed to send Ambika to Bombay by the kurla express and the deal was that smrithi and I would pick her up from the kurla station and bring her to our home. We had a small 1-room apartment at cuffe parade that time. The train reaches kurla at about 8AM and smrithi and I went to kurla to pick this ambika babe up. As luck would have it, when we reached the station we were told that train was delayed due to some derailments on the way and it is now expected only at 1pm. That was throwing all our morning plans out of gear. Smrithi had to attend office at any cost that day and so I volunteered top go to the station again at 1 pm and pick up this servant babe.
So, here I’m a guy of 30 waiting in the afternoon heat at kurla waiting for a woman I’ve never seen in my life…only identification was berth no. 29 in coach s-4. After the train chugged in, I went in search of s-4 compartment and found a dusky lady of about 30 sitting in berth no. 29. I spoke to her in mallu and confirmed that she’s ambika. She was wearing a light blue printed saree and my roving eye did catch the sumptuous breasts under the saree. She was a bit hesitant about seeing me alone as she was expecting a couple to pick her up and not a single male. So, we went home – I showed her around the place, left some instructions about what to do and what not to do and went to my office. On my way to office, I realized that something was amiss from my normal routine. I couldn’t figure that out, initially. Then, it slowly dawned on me. I was looking at all my female colleagues with a different eye. That I was horny. Plain simple horny. Ambika had done this to me. Having realized the problem, I set my mind to work and then went home. My wife was home by that time and she was talking to ambika. She was giving her instructions about where to sleep, what to wear etc. Ambika was told to wear only sarees (my wife hates gowns) and sleep in the kitchen itself as we have a small 1-bed flat. There was only one loo in the house and as such we had to share our loo with her.
Next day in the morning, my wife left home at 6 am as she had to go to pune by road to attend some company meeting. She was coming back only late in the night. I woke up leisurely and in my usual style yelled for a cup of coffee and went to the loo. I guess I forgot to lock the door and suddenly, there was some commotion in the house and I turned back to see ambika lying on the floor as she slipped on some small rug lying on the floor. I ran out of the loo and went to help her. She was all sprawled on the floor and was writhing in pain as she seems to have sprained some ankle. I tried to help her to get up and she yelled in pain. I carried her to the sofa and got her to lie down. She was pointing to her ankle and crying. I gave her some pain balm, but nothing seems to improve her condition. I just pressed her ankle and kept it pressed. That was somewhat alleviating her pain. I had kept her ankle o my lap and suddenly I realized that I had the same problem as in the previous day. I was plain simple horny. And her ankle on my lap didn’t help things either. I slowly massaged here ankles and turned her feet so that her ankles were touching my dick. Oh, that feeling was great.
Slowly, I started rubbing her ankles again and slowly started moving my hands up her legs. I guess she realized what was happening and was trying to get up. But my hands were strong and I looked her straight into her eyes. She mumbled something about “chichi” (mallu for sister) probably meaning what my wife will think. I said she’s in pune and wouldn’t be back till late night. Suddenly, she started crying and said that since her husband divorced her few years back, she ahs been without any male company and all my rubbing of her ankles have made her creamy. I quizzed her further on her divorce and it slowly came out that he left her because of problems in their sexual relations. He was no good in bed and t her repeated entreaties for fun at night, he used to abuse her saying you’re a whore. I liked that and asked her – would you actually like to be a whore??? She was quite taken aback and after much persuasion, came out saying she enjoyed sex very much…it’s just that her husband was no-good. I told her to forget about that and start a new life with me and Smrithi. Smrithi? – she wondered. How does my wife fit in with her being a whore? Won’t she throw me out the moment she comes to know that I’m fooling around with you. I asked her to leave that to me and said let’s start a whore training session for you right away.
With that I carried her to our bed room and threw her onto the bed. Her ankle pain and all that was gone by now. Like a lion pouncing onto a lamb, I just pounced on her and started pulling her saree. She tried to hold on to it for dear life, but my strong hands were no match for her. She was lying on my bed with just a blouse and petticoat. Her boobs were staring to get out of her blouse. I just squeezed them roughly and she yelled out in pain. I cried – whore…you’ll be our sex slave from today. You’ll do whatever I or smrithi asks her to do . no questions asked. Then, I had some violent sex with her and just before I came, I took my dick out of her cunt and asked her to kiss me. She turned her face in revulsion and I just yanked her hair. Bitch, do this or you better go back to kerala in the next morning train. She dutifully started kissing my dick and with some prodding from me, started sucking me off. I came in her mouth and she couldn’t drink all of my cream. It was leaking from the corners of her lips and it was a great sight. I took out my handycam and started shooting her face. She got frightened and started crying… I said, don’t worry I just wanted to record it for smrithi’s sake.
Smrithi? She again asked in bewilderment.
Interested enough to hear about the second part of the story (or rather incident) in which smrithi and I used ambika as our full fledged sex slave.