Time to pay, Madam High-and-Mighty.”I didn’t flinch—oh no, darlings, Maya’s too proud for that. I straightened my dupatta over my thicc tits, nose piercing flaring as I sneered down at them, my 44-inch ass planted firm like I owned the gods themselves. “How dare you barge into my home, you drug-rat vermin? Get out before I summon the entire force—my husband’s a counselor, you know, and men like you are ants under my heel.” My voice dripped haughty venom, faithful wife to the core, picturing Jayaram’s face if he saw this; I’d die before letting these filth touch my sacred skin. But Khan just laughed, a guttural bark that made my trimmed pussy lips twitch involuntarily under my red thong—traitorous body, even as my mind screamed piety. They lunged like wolves, Raju and Vikram grabbing my wrists, yanking them high above my head while Sunny kicked the door shut.
“Tie the bitch,” Khan ordered, and they dragged me to the living room sofa, my red salwar kameez hiking up my thick thighs, exposing the creamy expanse of my legs. I struggled, but not desperately—no, I spat words like daggers: “Unhand me, you half-grown whelps! Do you know who I am? Maya Mohini, the voice of justice, not some street whore for your tiny pricks!”Raju, that smirking twenty-two-year-old punk, looped a belt from his waist around my raised wrists, securing them tight to the sofa’s arm—my arms stretched taut overhead, forcing my 42E tits to thrust out like offerings on an altar I never wanted. “Look at this arrogant sow, Khan bhai—thinks her big words save her fat ass.” Vikram chuckled, his curved fingers ripping at the strings of my salwar pants, yanking them down my voluptuous hips with a tear that echoed my shattering pride. The red fabric pooled at my ankles, leaving my red thong exposed— that skimpy scrap barely containing my plump pussy mound, the trimmed bikini hairs peeking like forbidden secrets.
I bucked, my pierced navel glinting under the lights, shaved armpits exposed as my kameez rode up, but my tongue stayed sharp: “You’ll rot in jail for this, boys—my Jayaram will have your balls on a platter. I’m a faithful wife, untouchable!” Sunny, the eager kid, palmed my 44-inch ass cheeks through the thong, squeezing hard enough to make my pious hole clench. “Untouchable? Wait till we stretch that holy cunt, aunty.”Khan stepped forward then, his fifty-year-old bulk towering, unzipping his pants to unleash that monstrous 9-incher—veins bulging like ropes, head already leaking pre-cum like a promise of ruin. He grabbed my kameez neckline with both fists and ripped downward, the fabric shredding like paper, buttons popping across the room as my red bra spilled free. My massive 42E tits bounced out, heavy and proud, nipples hardening against my will in the cool air—dark peaks begging for sin while my mind chanted fidelity.
“You complained about my drugs, slut? Now taste the real high,” he snarled, shoving my torn kameez aside, leaving me in just bra, thong, and those traitorous heels I’d kicked off earlier. I glared up at him, arms straining against the tie, my arrogant chin lifted defiantly: “Do your worst, old dog—my soul stays pure, my body Jayaram’s temple. You’ll never break Maya Mohini.” But oh, fuck, as Raju and Vikram flanked him, their cocks springing free—Raju’s 7-inch girth throbbing, Vikram’s 8-inch curve arching wickedly—my thicc body betrayed me, pussy juices soaking the red thong’s crotch.