Update 5:
"That's it," Tarannum purred, her eyes never leaving his. "Come for me, you madarchod. Show me what a good boy you can be." Her words were like a slap in the face, the reality of his situation crashing down on him as she reached her own climax, her sandals digging into the couch cushions as she bucked her hips against him.
"Look at me when you come." Tarannum's command pierced through the haze of Ajay's panic as he felt his body responding to her relentless assault. He did not know what she meant by "coming," but he could feel something strange happening inside him, a pressure building that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His eyes remained locked on hers, filled with a mix of fear and awe at the power she wielded over him.
With a choking cry, Ajay's hips jerked involuntarily, eyes clenched shut, his teeth grinding together as he tried to hold back the inevitable. With a strangled cry, he came, his seed spurting into her, filling her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated. Tarannum's own climax hit her a moment later, a powerful wave that seemed to shake her to the core, leaving her breathless and satisfied.
Tarannum watched him, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're mine now." She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue probing his mouth, tasting the tears that had slipped down his cheeks.
The room was still, the only sound their harsh breathing. Tarannum's sandals remained in place, a silent sentinel to the act they had just committed. Ajay felt a wave of nausea wash over him, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his forced climax. He didn't know what to do, where to go. His mind was a tumult of emotions: fear, anger, disgust, and a strange, unwelcome arousal.
Tarannum's body went slack, her breathing slowing to a more normal rhythm. She leaned back, her sandals slipping off his thighs to the floor with a quiet thump. She looked down at him, a strange mix of satisfaction and pity in her eyes. "You see?" she whispered, her voice gentle now. "It wasn't so bad."
Ajay couldn't find the words to respond. He felt dirty, used, and utterly alone. He managed to push her off him, his body sticky with sweat and his own release. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his pants up hastily. The room spun around him, and he had to grab the back of the couch to steady himself.
Tarannum watched him with a knowing smile, her chest rising and falling with her labored breaths. She reached for her kameez, sliding it back over her shoulders with a casual grace that made Ajay's stomach churn. "Don't go," she said softly, her voice a siren's call. "We can do this again. You liked it, didn't you?"
But Ajay couldn't bear to look at her. He felt as if he were suffocating in the thick, heavy air of her lust. He stumbled towards the door, his legs wobbly with shock. "I have to go," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "My parents..."
Tarannum's smile never wavered, the satisfaction on her face a stark contrast to the horror etched on Ajay's. "Remember, Ajay," she called out as he reached for the doorknob, "you're mine now. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make sure your life is ruined." She paused, her eyes cold and calculating. "I have ways of making sure no one ever believes you."
Ajay stumbled out of the house, the cool evening air a slap in the face compared to the stifling heat of Tarannum's lust. His legs felt like jelly, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He couldn't go to the police, couldn't tell his parents. Who would believe a boy who had been raped by his own teacher?
He walked home in a daze, the sounds of the neighborhood muffled by the roar of his own thoughts. The bright lights of the street lamps did nothing to illuminate the darkness that had descended upon him. He felt like a ghost, passing through the world without leaving a trace.
Once inside his house, Ajay rushed to the bathroom, his eyes avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He scrubbed his body with scalding water, trying to wash away the feel of her touch. But it clung to him like a second skin, a reminder of the horror he had endured. His hands trembled as he tried to clean himself, the water turning pink as it swirled down the drain.
After what felt like an eternity, Ajay emerged from the bathroom, his skin red and raw from his frantic efforts. He slipped into his bed, his body sore and his mind racing. He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the images of Tarannum's sandal-covered feet, the smell of her perfume, and the taste of her whiskey-laced kisses. He felt violated, his innocence torn away by the very person he had trusted to guide him through the complexities of math and life.
"That's it," Tarannum purred, her eyes never leaving his. "Come for me, you madarchod. Show me what a good boy you can be." Her words were like a slap in the face, the reality of his situation crashing down on him as she reached her own climax, her sandals digging into the couch cushions as she bucked her hips against him.
"Look at me when you come." Tarannum's command pierced through the haze of Ajay's panic as he felt his body responding to her relentless assault. He did not know what she meant by "coming," but he could feel something strange happening inside him, a pressure building that was both terrifying and exhilarating. His eyes remained locked on hers, filled with a mix of fear and awe at the power she wielded over him.
With a choking cry, Ajay's hips jerked involuntarily, eyes clenched shut, his teeth grinding together as he tried to hold back the inevitable. With a strangled cry, he came, his seed spurting into her, filling her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated. Tarannum's own climax hit her a moment later, a powerful wave that seemed to shake her to the core, leaving her breathless and satisfied.
Tarannum watched him, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a soft caress. "You're mine now." She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue probing his mouth, tasting the tears that had slipped down his cheeks.
The room was still, the only sound their harsh breathing. Tarannum's sandals remained in place, a silent sentinel to the act they had just committed. Ajay felt a wave of nausea wash over him, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his forced climax. He didn't know what to do, where to go. His mind was a tumult of emotions: fear, anger, disgust, and a strange, unwelcome arousal.
Tarannum's body went slack, her breathing slowing to a more normal rhythm. She leaned back, her sandals slipping off his thighs to the floor with a quiet thump. She looked down at him, a strange mix of satisfaction and pity in her eyes. "You see?" she whispered, her voice gentle now. "It wasn't so bad."
Ajay couldn't find the words to respond. He felt dirty, used, and utterly alone. He managed to push her off him, his body sticky with sweat and his own release. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his pants up hastily. The room spun around him, and he had to grab the back of the couch to steady himself.
Tarannum watched him with a knowing smile, her chest rising and falling with her labored breaths. She reached for her kameez, sliding it back over her shoulders with a casual grace that made Ajay's stomach churn. "Don't go," she said softly, her voice a siren's call. "We can do this again. You liked it, didn't you?"
But Ajay couldn't bear to look at her. He felt as if he were suffocating in the thick, heavy air of her lust. He stumbled towards the door, his legs wobbly with shock. "I have to go," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "My parents..."
Tarannum's smile never wavered, the satisfaction on her face a stark contrast to the horror etched on Ajay's. "Remember, Ajay," she called out as he reached for the doorknob, "you're mine now. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll make sure your life is ruined." She paused, her eyes cold and calculating. "I have ways of making sure no one ever believes you."
Ajay stumbled out of the house, the cool evening air a slap in the face compared to the stifling heat of Tarannum's lust. His legs felt like jelly, his mind racing with the implications of her words. He couldn't go to the police, couldn't tell his parents. Who would believe a boy who had been raped by his own teacher?
He walked home in a daze, the sounds of the neighborhood muffled by the roar of his own thoughts. The bright lights of the street lamps did nothing to illuminate the darkness that had descended upon him. He felt like a ghost, passing through the world without leaving a trace.
Once inside his house, Ajay rushed to the bathroom, his eyes avoiding his reflection in the mirror. He scrubbed his body with scalding water, trying to wash away the feel of her touch. But it clung to him like a second skin, a reminder of the horror he had endured. His hands trembled as he tried to clean himself, the water turning pink as it swirled down the drain.
After what felt like an eternity, Ajay emerged from the bathroom, his skin red and raw from his frantic efforts. He slipped into his bed, his body sore and his mind racing. He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the images of Tarannum's sandal-covered feet, the smell of her perfume, and the taste of her whiskey-laced kisses. He felt violated, his innocence torn away by the very person he had trusted to guide him through the complexities of math and life.
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