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A Young Widow Turns into a Slut

I am 26 today. A fully satisfied woman. My nipples no longer throb with uncompleted satisfaction and my cunt no longer pulses with unmet needs. Instead my nipples look forward to being strummed by the tongue and fingers of my lovers and my cunt looks forward to being filled by my lovers hard and ever ready cock. I experience every day and many times a day the exquisite feeling of hot male cum dribbling out of my cunt and flowing slowly down my thighs while the hot saliva of my lovers dry on my nipples. I feel the touch of his hard hands on my shoulders and his hard thighs on my soft creamy thighs and sigh. I think this was how heaven was supposed to be.

But it was not always like this. My life had always been another kind of heaven. A more restricted and in some ways a safer heaven. I was born in a middle class family in a big city. That comes with many advantages and some disadvantages. My parents were well read and employed. But they were very mild mannered like all middle class people. Very traditional as well and very conservative.

They loved to show off what little that had by way of assets and they intensely distrusted people who were not like them. This meant to them, people who were wealthy were low on morals, people who were poor would do anything for money and people of their own class were always jealous of them. There was no pleasing them.

There was one thing that did please them though. The one thing that gave them intense satisfaction. That was their son and my brother. He was 5 years older than me. Very intelligent and a high achiever. He was always top of the class, getting prizes in sports and generally the leader of men and the light of my parents eyes. He also occasionally gave lessons to some of the richer but less intelligent boys at school. They dreamed of him getting into IIT and then possibly going away to the US and then come back to help them get into the “Rich people” category. The same rich people who were low on morals.

I on the other hand was ordinary in studies and pretty inept in helping out in household jobs. I was never a favourite. I liked to do one thing though- look at myself in the mirror. I was pretty- very, very pretty. Slim and fair, clean features and lovely face. I was always staring at the mirror and trying to play with my hair, try to steal my mother’s cheap lipstick to make my red lips even darker. Twirl my hair around my body and try to look even prettier. This was an advantage I had over my star brother who was very ordinary in looks. At least I thought it was an advantage- but I sadly knew little.

I was very graceful and had a lovely voice. Naturally, a few teachers advised my parents about sending me to singing and dancing. But I did not get to go and I never came to why this was so. It was much later that I understood that my parents thought all singers and dancers would ultimately turn out as whores and sluts. They thought singing and dancing arouses sexuality and that was one thing they did not want in their daughter- the daughter who was already so pretty.
Things came to a head one day, when I was alone in my room- which I shared with my mother (my brother had the other room in the 2 bedroom apartment, as was a student and dad slept in the living room on a pull-out sofa-bed. What they did not know was, I knew when my mum went out sneakily- for the hurried thrust and cum sex they had once in 2-3 weeks). Yes, I was alone in the room and I took off my churidar kurta to have a look at my budding breasts. I loved seeing the rosebuds – creamy white with a pale pink tips. I held them close in my palm and shivered. The strange electric current that travelled between my legs when I held my breasts was so exciting.

As I looked at my pale pink nipples, I saw the lipstick tube and applied some lightly on my lips. The dark red lips and the pale pink nipples on my budding girlish body was so pleasing to the eye.

As I dreamed, the door banged open. My mother came in and stared at me. The flames that grew in her eyes were scary. As I shivered, she came close to me- slapped me hard on the cheeks. She forcefully rubbed her hands on my mouth. The reddened cheek and the lipstick smeared mouth, sent her into a rage. She whispered “You slut !!”. She held me by my arm and started dragging me out. I grabbed at the dupatta and tried to wrap it around my upper body- to some extent.

My mother dragged me in front of my dad who was sitting in front of the TV. What she hadn’t been prepared for is my brother with another boy- a rich (low on morals) boy as well, sitting in the room. She pushed me in front of my day and spoke in low tones of me as a strumpet who was going to corrupt everyone. What she said enraged dad too. But what I saw, what she saw, to her shock, was not just anger in my father’s eyes. But a kindling lust as he stared at my hastily wrapped nudity, my red face, my bare arms. She turned away in shock and confusion, to see the faces of my brother and his young (and very handsome friend). The same look of lust on all their faces.

She caught hold of my arm and dragged me back into the room- she possibly imagined that I would drag the three men into an orgy then and there. She pushed me into the room and said “You little, cheap whore. Stay here, till I let you out”. I had dinner brought to me in the room and later in the evening, I heard whispering between the two – as my brother had gone away with his classmate. They were speaking of the little slut who would spoil the young man- the star. Therefore, I would need to be controlled.

That was the last of any experience of sexual awakening in my young life for a long time, except for one brief, very brief interlude. I was otherwise, the perfect celibate, the perfect virgin till my marriage when I was 19 years old. But before I get into marriage, let me narrate the brief excitement that I had as a young girl, before I retreated into the mental and sexual cage.
What I had experienced tll now as a safe haven, suddenly became my prison. Other than attending school, the only other place I had to go was the bedroom. This was the most intense studying period for my brother. His IIT JEE was only a few months away as was his 12th standard exams.

I only had my 9th standard exams and then, I wasn’t a star student and then I was a girl. My mother in a relatively good mood would lecture to me “He is a boy. His intelligence is his salvation. You are a girl. Your virginity is your salvation. As a man, he needs to get a good job. As a girl, you need to get a good husband”. Funny thing is, I believed her.

When my brother was not at home, she let me sit in the living room and watch television. We used to watch Doordarshan, unlike my friends who used to talk of things like cable TV. My mother also thought that watching movies was immoral. So I watched the news sometimes.

She was also not letting me stay outside the room if my father was outside. It was like a true prison. I got to think and dream a lot. I dreamt that somebody would come riding on a silver horse and take me away from this prison.

Six months is a long period in the life of a young girl. How long would my dreams be sustained on the expectation of the knight who would never come. I saw my mother almost every waking moment outside of school and even the mirror did not give any pleasure anymore.

School was a tough one. My uniform was a dress that covered my entire body. My hair was oily and smelt of stale coconut oil. No wonder nobody really wanted to be friends with me.

Six months plodded by and fame to an end. My brother got the much desired IIT seat. My mother was sure that my not being a source of distraction was one reason for his success. Anyway in the middle of his success, my very existence was forgotten. My potential to corrupt his young manhood too, was forgotten.

There was now a problem. My brother had to be admitted to college, which meant having to be away from home. My parents had to accompany him on his journey of glory. But what to do about me! I could not be taken on a train journey where there were so many young men. On the other hand, I could not be left alone. A real dilemma.

The situation reassured my mother that I was a true burden. At 18 my brother was off to conquer the world. Three years younger, I was simply a burdensome girl.
That was the moment for Sudha auntie. My mother’s sister. Married to an artiste. A love marriage. She sang and danced too. My mother was ashamed to call her a sister. I rarely met her. But extraordinary times meant extraordinary decisions.

Sudha lived in the same city, but at quite some distance from our house. Mother had a chat on the telephone with her sister. I was to spend the week with Sudha auntie, when my parents would go to drop off my brother. Mother took me there by a rickshaw. The house was much bigger than ours.

All the way, mother chewed my brains. Told me to keep my shame, chastity and not become corrupt like her sister. At the house, she stayed for two minutes, stuffed my bag into my arms and said byte to her sister. Did not say bye to me at all.

Sudha auntie, looked at me strangely. She did not seem a very nice person. At least she did not appear judgmental. She took me in and told me where my room was- I had my own room.

This was the stage where a young girl would first he introduced to infatuation, lust and the pain of being separated from the object of a young girl’s desire.

Sudha auntie, looked at me strangely. She did not seem a very nice person. At least she did not appear judgmental. She took me in and told me where my room was- I had my own room.

This was the stage where a young girl would first he introduced to infatuation, lust and the pain of being separated from the object of a young girl’s desire.
It was a four-bedroom flat. It was huge- by the standards of housing I had experienced till now.
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