Dark Desires: Dark Erotic Tales

by M Jet

  Several moments went by of Shekhar alternating his cock between our two mouths. I kept my eyes closed and tried to lose myself in knowing that Kis, my love was right next to me. I could feel her cheek against my own, could feel the heat of her. I tried to imagine it was just we two, and that Shekhar was not here using and degrading us. I opened my eyes and saw her watching me out of the corner of her eyes as she swirled her tongue on the tip of his cock. I reached out tentatively with my tongue, and licked him with her. Our tongues touched and a shiver passed through me. Kis was overcome, and she placed a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth.

  Like lightening, Shekhar reached down and belted Kishori in the mouth, sending her sprawling to the floor. I fell back as well, sobbing.

  "YOU DO NOT TOUCH HER, WHORE!" Shekhar screamed. I scrambled farther back, trying to cover my exposed body. I felt desperate to rush to Kishori who laid quietly crying, and cupping her injured jaw in her shaking hand. But I was suddenly terrified about what may happen to either if us if I did.

  Shekhar stood fuming, his hair a wild mess, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes livid with rage. He stomped to where Kis had landed. "SHE WILL BE MY WIFE. YOU ARE NOT TO TOUCH HER EVER, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

  He seemed unhinged and he began to draw back his foot as if to kick her.

  "SHEKHAR, NO STOP!" I screamed as my love cowered and attempted to protect her face.

  He stopped and turned toward me. "Please my love," I begged him. "She thought that was what you wanted, that's all. We only wanted to please you. Now we know, not to touch each other. Please forgive us." I groveled in the most convincing voice I could muster, watching Kis out of the corner of my eye, but being careful not to show her outward attention. Shekhar rushed to me, kneeling on the floor and sweeping me into his strong arms.

  "Gita, Gita!" he cried, cuddling me against his hairy chest. "Do not cry! I am not angry with you, my most precious one. It is her who has enraged me."

  I wept against him. Though his nearness sickened me, I knew if I could get him to hold me close, he would be leaving her alone. "Please, no more anger. Please," I whispered.

  Shekhar gently laid me out on the rug. "No, love," he said intensely. "No more anger." He lowered himself over my body and this time entered me gently, took me gently. It took much longer for him to reach his end and I turned my face to the side and focused on not crying.

  Where once I had found pleasure, I now found stark terror and Kis had to lay there and watch as he had what he wanted from me.

  When he was finished with me, he sent us both back to the harem.

  ***

  Kis and I became far more secretive and discreet with our relationship. We were terrified that somebody might figure out what was going on between us. But, we continued to be drawn together like moths to a flame. Late in the nights, she'd slip into my room. Sometimes we'd cuddle up together, holding each other and crying, not knowing what we should do. Shekhar's true nature had been revealed. Not only that, but I was his chosen one. If he were to ever somehow find out what went on between us…

  It crossed our minds that we would both be executed.

  Yet, even with the threat of death lingering in the backgrounds of our lives, there were still other times when our passion was irresistible. Numerous times, I woke with her already under my covers, her mouth already on me, her tongue moving in and out of me. The intensity of going straight from deep sleep to intense erotic passion brought about profound orgasms for us both. To me, Kis' touch was something well worth risking death for.

  In our private moments, Shekhar remained a kind and compassionate lover to me. I could almost forget the nightmarish encounter with Kis where he had brutalized us both. Yet, I knew that just below the charming surface roosted a black heart and was sure that the monster would eventually rear its ugly head again.

  And so it continued. When Shekhar called for me, I played my part of devoted lover and fiancé. I wanted nothing more to find a way to leave the harem. But even if I could get out, there was no guarantee that Kis could get out too and I simply had to stay near her. And at times he was otherwise occupied; I carried on my affair with Kis under the protective veil of the night.

  Shekhar's mother, Padma became consumed with me and much of my day was spent planning the approaching lavish wedding. I struggled through each endless planning session with her only to rush to the bathroom to become violently ill afterward. My life had become a nightmare. I dreaded considering my future as Mrs. Kulkarni, yet I couldn't fathom life without Kis. And to somehow escape Shekhar would doubtlessly also mean losing her.

  Part 5

  Six months raced by and brought me careening into the eve of my wedding. Padma had every moment of my day planned for primping and preparing. She told me she hoped I'd had my fill of Shekhar the previous night as I wouldn't be seeing him again until I was walking down the aisle to him.

  Oh how I bit my tongue to refrain from telling just how much I had in fact had my fill of the bastard.

  I moved through the day in a blur. I was far beyond tears by the time that day rolled around. My mind lived in the place that was just before madness. I was pliant and willing to be led around by Padma from one function to the next. I lay nude on a table in the salon as workers covered my body in the paste made of turmeric and honey. After I was left to soak in that, I was then washed in a bath or fragrant rose water. Next they washed, waxed, and brushed every inch of my hair, preparing and cleaning it to be elaborately styled in the morning. Then numerous artists worked to cover my legs, feet, arms, and hands in gorgeous henna art. It was late that night when I was finally allowed to go to sleep for a few short hours.

  Padma had me up before the sun the morning of my wedding. I followed her like a puppy through another lengthy session of beautifying until finally at noon, I was fully prepared to meet my soon to be husband for our wedding ceremony. I stood before the mirror and gasped at my own reflection.

  My large black eyes never looked more alluring with the rich and artful smoky makeup. Plump lips were colored crimson and seemed to invite a kiss. My slim body shimmered in the silky white saree that was covered with thousands of delicate, glinting crystals. It swept the floor and only when I took a step were my beautifully decorated bare feet visible. My hair was styled in a large bun comprised of a thousand perfect ringlets at the nape of my long neck. A jewel encrusted, golden shringar perched delicately atop my head, tracing my hairline, and scooping to the middle of my forehead in a cluster of diamonds. A heavy gold and diamond collar graced my slender neck and matching diamond earring dripped from my ear lobes. Elaborate haathpools of more gold and diamonds adorned my wrists and fingers. As a finishing touch, Padma inserted a nath, or nose ring into my nose. The effect was complete. I was the vision of the perfect bride.

  And inside I was dying.

  Padma put her hands on my shoulders as she stared at me in the mirror.

  "My darling, Gita," Padma said. "I knew as soon as I first saw you that you would be the one my son would choose. And you will be so perfect. This harem has never in all my years known a woman who could come close to your beauty. And you are kind, intelligent and obedient. You will be the perfect wife, and the perfect mother to my grandchildren," she said happily, wrapping me in a gently hug so as not to mess my carefully prepared perfection.

  "Thank you, Padma," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

  ***

  The wedding was in the house of Shekhar Kulkarni, and was a small affair with only three hundred in attendance. All the women of the harem were there. They all stared at me with naked hatred. Except for my beloved Kis. She dared to watch me with haunted eyes. It was a small comfort to have her near on that, the day of my demise, but I knew her heart was shattering. For she knew what I knew. Though marrying Shekhar kept me close to Kis, there wasn't a doubt that I was marrying a madman.

  The wedding transpired in a complete blur of which I cannot recall even now. Afterwards the party goers made merry, and Shekhar kept m
e at his side constantly. My bridal gown was too tight, and my stomach too distraught for me to consider eating, and my head grew light with only the first few sips of champagne. Before long I was drunk, for the first time in my life.

  At midnight, Shekhar whispered in my ear. "Come my love, it looks as though I must take you to bed if I am to have you tonight; you have had far too much to drink."

  I laughed the first happy sound to escape me that day. Little did he know the drink had been my coping mechanism for knowing I would have to join him in his bed chambers as his wife that night. I felt less frightened, and better prepared to simply take whatever was coming to me on my wedding night.

  Shekhar took my hand and led me quietly away from the party that was still in full swing. We walked into the bedroom and I fell unceremoniously onto the bed. Shekhar smiled coolly at me as he walked up to the bed table approaching the telephone. "Do not go to sleep, I have to make a call," Shekhar said calmly with a strange tone underneath the calm.

  I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the floor. I was vaguely aware of him barking into the phone that he was ready and to send her in. My head snapped up and I gaped at him, but I did not say a word. He turned from me and quickly disrobed, wasting no time. Then he turned and strode back to where I sat on the bed.

  Shekhar began gently removing my wedding jewelry and taking it to the bedside table, piece by piece. Then he pulled me up into a standing position and spun me around so he could begin unbuttoning my wedding saree. I watched with a pang of sadness as my beautiful gown fell in a pile on the floor beside the bed. Shekhar stood behind me and I could feel his erection in my back as he reached around to massage my breasts roughly. Heat began to tingle inside me. I hated myself and fought my arousal, but I couldn't help it as his hands moved over my body. The door opened and Manu walked in. In my drunken state, I didn't even bother covering myself but when she stepped out from behind Manu, my mouth fell open.

  There stood Kishori.

  "SHEKHAR!" I exclaimed. I noticed a slightly alarmed expression on Manu's face at the sound of my distress. But Shekhar bellowed at Manu to leave and so he hurried out.

  "Why is she here? Why, Shekhar? It is our wedding night!"

  I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to go through the nightmare with Kis again. Not on this, of all days.

  Shekhar's dark eyes narrowed and clouded with anger. "Do not question me, wife. This night, this is what I want," he growled. He put a hand on my shoulder and he shoved me to the ground. "Suck."

  I glanced at Kis and the tears began to flow. But I knew I had no choice, so I took his throbbing cock into my mouth.

  "Ahhh," he whispered. "Good girl," he praised. I whimpered.

  "Stop."

  I pulled away from him and my attention shot to Kishori. She stood still in the spot Manu had left her, and her face glowed with her rage. Shekhar glowered down at me and then over to her. "What the fuck did you say?" he whispered.

  Brazenly, Kis began to stride toward him. "I said stop, you bastard. She's crying. She doesn't want this. Now STOP."

  Shekhar was across the room so fast I scarcely saw him. Before I had time to complete a thought, his big hands were around Kis' slender throat. "I will KILL YOU!" he raged.

  An animal like scream rang out in the room.

  It wasn't until much later when recalling the moment in nightmares that I realized the scream was me.

  I threw myself on Shekhar's back, flailing, scratching, and yanking more viciously than I'd ever have imagined of myself. Shekhar's hands fell from Kis' throat and she fell like a rag doll to the throat gasping and choking for breath. Shekhar stumbled backwards screaming himself and he bucked me off. I clambered to the floor, falling so hard I felt all my bones should've broken.

  "HOW DARE YOU!" Shekhar roared. His first kick landed squarely in my abdomen and sent me reeling backwards several more feet. He reached down and jerked me up by my neck, only to punch me in the face and send me sprawling again. I wept and struggled to maintain consciousness knowing that if his rage was focused on me, then Kis could escape.

  But that didn't happen.

  Instead, his terrorizing rage came to a sudden end as blood and brain matter exploded from his face and he fell limply on top of me. My mind spun, I didn't comprehend at all what had happened. But then, Shekhar's lifeless body was rolled off me, and silhouetted by the bright light above, I saw Manu standing there with a gun hanging loosely at his side. Kis scurried to my side and wrapped me in her arms.

  "I'm sorry," Manu said, staring down at his now deceased employer. He turned haunted eyes to meet mine. "I'm sorry, Gita. That I ever let him hurt you. Now, you are free… I hope you can forgive me.

  Epilogue

  Despite the fact that I was the widow of an important politician, and powerful business man in Assam, I had no authority to help Manu.

  But, he accepted his fate willingly. He never demonstrated regret, and during his trial, he made known what a true monster he'd given over his life to like so many others. He gladly accepted a death sentence if it meant freeing the women of the Kulkarni harem.

  However, in that respect, I did have some power to help. Despite the raving of my mother in law, I gave each of the workers and the harem girls $50,000 and sent them packing. I knew many of them would choose to find a way right back into this life, and I prayed for their souls. Others were grateful to me, their savior. More and more stories came to light of violence and darkness behind closed doors of the harem, and those who were abused revered me for setting them free.

  Kis and I settled up affairs at the Kulkarni estate and made plans for ourselves. Neither of us had any desire to return to our families, nor after what we'd been through, Kis no longer harbored any illusions about harem life.

  Manu was executed on a cool autumn day with storms blustering on the nearby horizon. By the time his day came, nothing remained of the harem and even Padma was long gone. Nobody attended his execution but Kis and I and a spattering of reporters.

  We shed our tears for him, and we were glad that he died peacefully with a smile on his face. We took that with us as we boarded a plane right after saying goodbye to the man who'd given his life for us.

  Then we left it all behind as the plane carried us away, to our new world, and our new life; together.

  The End

  Matteo Sorrention pauses in his race around the bar, to take a look around and marvel at all the people pouring in the door. He's hardly stood still since four in the afternoon; busy preparing the place for a hopping Friday night crowd. Even now, at nine, he's still incredibly busy making sure everything's running smoothly before he goes on stage with his band. Matteo's wife Morreen is manning the bar while his band plays. He glances toward the front where she is busy mixing drinks. She smiles politely at a patron whose enthusiasm far exceeds Morreen's. Matteo grimaces, wishing she would liven up, worrying that things will disintegrate while he's on stage with her in charge. As if sensing him watching, Morreen's pretty green eyes shift in his direction and catch his frown. She frowns as well, and he recovers by brandishing upon her a vibrant smile. But she does not smile back. She returns her attention to the bar, her face sadly drawn.

  Matteo sighs and takes off again. The band is already on stage and has kicked up the first song. He takes a long legged graceful leap and lands on stage. Grabbing the mic, Matteo begins to belt out the first notes of a driving country song in his low, gravelly voice. Bodies begin to gyrate on the dance floor and as always, Matteo has the audience captivated.

  ***

  "What's that lead singer drinking, do you know?" a girl asks Morreen Sorrention at the bar. Morreen glances back at the stage. Matteo grooves under the colorful stage lights. He wears crisp blue jeans that ride low on his hips and are boot cut, accommodating his pristine black cowboy boots. His white button down shirt is rolled at the sleeves and even from here she can see the flames of his tattoos creeping down his forearms. The several top buttons are undone and a becoming crop of ch
est hair peaks out. The cut lines of his face are accented with a slight shadow of stubble move fluidly as he sings. As always the sound of Matteo's voice sends a shiver through her.

  She turns her eyes back to the tramp standing before her with her heavily made up face and mane of long blonde hair. Though it is February, the girl wears tight cigarette pants and a barely there form fitting halter top that exposes her midriff and nearly everything else. Despite the thick scent of cigarette smoke and spilled beer, Morreen smells the girl's oppressive perfume. Though the girl looks slutty, she is gorgeous. Morreen is no slouch herself, but lately she hasn't felt she measures up to these pretty young things anymore.

  "Yeah, I know what he drinks, he's my husband," Morreen says with not attempt to conceal her contempt toward the girl.

  The girl's eyes snap to Morreen and she gives her a snide smile with her ruby red lips. "Yeah? Well what's he drink?"

  "Jack and Coke." Morreen replies sharply.

  The girl titters, obviously enjoying Morreen's display of jealousy. "OK," the girl says with a smart assed tone, "well give me one then!"

  Morreen's shadowy eyes narrow and her pale cheeks redden. "Do you have an ID?" Morreen growled.

  The girl rolls her eyes. "Wow, seriously? They carded me at the door."

  Morreen extends her hand. "ID or get out," she snaps.

  The girl makes a big spectacle of fetching her ID from her purse, grumbling and sighing. Morreen notes the girl is in fact old enough to be there. By three days. Grudgingly, she serves the girl a weak Jack and Coke. Without a thank you or a tip, the girl plucks the drink from the bar and bounces off into the crowd.