KASS: Shreya

KASS: Shreya

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Continuing the KASS story.

Summary

Continuing the KASS story.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Not Scared

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 22, 2016

Reads: 937

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 22, 2016

A A A

A A A

I should be scared, thought Shreya. I should be so scared. But strangely enough, Shreya felt a very different reaction. She was feeling very high. She was tense, a finely tuned, highly strung type of tension.

When she looked down she could see her slightly flaccid size 34B breasts drooping to her sides. She raised her head as high as she could, She could make out her belly button with the almost erased scar from her C- Section. And then, just beyond the rise of her pubic mound, the dark teasing pubic hair.

She was so naked. So exposed.

She could hardly move, as her hands and feet were tied to each post of the bed.

She was not scared. She was excited!

She was so vulnerable, so defenseless.

Because if she were more able to defend herself, she would try and fight back, and that would not be fun.

Shreya!

He was coming. Her captor. That dark, strong, hulking beast that had left her like this. Left her bound to the bed so that he could do to her whatever he wanted.

Shreya!

Yes sir!

The man stops by the foot of the bed. He is also naked. He is so muscular. He looks at her helpless state. So naked, so exposed.

I would enjoy you so much more if I could trust you.

Shreya nodded her head furiously. Mmm Mmm! Yes yes!

Really, Shreya?

He walks over to the side of the bed where her head is closest to. He strokes her long dark hair, slightly damp from her rapid sweating. She twists her head from side to side to try and tell him something. He smiles and kisses her where her open mouth should be.

“Are you ready, Shreya?”

Mmm Mmm! Yes yes!

His cock is not yet erect. Why not? Does he not see this pretty, naked, brown woman lying in front of him?

He bends down, his tongue making a wet trail from her neck, to her chest, between her breasts, then further down toward her belly button. He stops here, his tongue making cute wet circles in that cute little dip by her belly. Shreya breathes hard causing her belly to rise abruptly.

She knows what comes next. That wet trail is approaching her vulva mound. Shreya began to bite at her gag. No! Yes! No! Yes! Yes!

“I am so pleased to see your delicious pussy,” he said. “Would you like me to take a taste?”

Mmm Mmm!

“You don’t?”

Mmmmmmmm!!

Did he really care about the tone or the strength of her muffled responses? He takes off the rope that it is binding Shreya’s left leg to the bed post. Before she can respond to the release, he pushes that leg back, presenting him with a clearer sight of her moist pussy.

“Ready to play, Shreya?”

Mmmmmmmm!!

What’s that, Shreya?”

Another voice. This one is different. Female. In a formal white blouse, and a black pencil skirt.

“Oh ummm.” Give yourself time to recover. “I’m so sorry, Jenny! I just bit my cheek!”

Jenny gave a suitable face of commiseration. ‘Oh that really sucks. I hate when I do that.”

Shreya poked out her right cheek with her tongue. “It’s clumsy though. Anyway, what were you saying before my loonie show.”

“Oh yes! We’re ordering Chinese for lunch. Getting one of those dinners for four. You want to be in on it?”

“Well my mom would say I am dishonoring my people by going the Chinese route, but…  I am so in the mood for orange chicken! That comes with it, right?”

“Sure does, although you will have to fight Delores for that chicken.”

“Bring it on!”

Once Jenny was gone, Shreya could really breath again. She pressed the space bar to wake up her desktop PC, then peered at the screen. It was the Agency’s intranet site that mirrored the internet site. She was on the news page. It was flashing with a number of highlighted notices. There was a food recall warning for Manitoba, a brand of Crunchy Peanut Butter was being recalled as there was a possible salmonella contamination. In Ontario, a brand of Dried Noddles was being recalled because of an inclusion of egg not declared on the label. And Shreya could not take this all in right now. What she really needed to do was to leave her desk, find a very private spot where she could lie or sit down and give herself a sexy dose of self-care.

No, what she really needed was for one of the black guys in the office to take her into his arms, find that same very private spot close by and then proceed to take her body apart with his dick.

She wished. There were two black males working in the office. One was a married man in his early fifties from Burundi with three adult kids. The other was a young man of Caribbean parentage, good looking, with an attractive body, who was a strict Christian. He came to work in formal wear including a bow tie.

This was the Canadian Food inspection Agency, you dimwit. The hell you want with a bow tie?

Her daydreams were becoming much more vivid. It took a lot of willpower for her to stay rooted in her seat, pretending to be reading something or on a call, when she was away in a fantasy cloud, nearly always so vulnerable and at the mercy of a black man. Why? Was this a fetish? Was it racist? She did not see of herself as an equal in a relationship with a black man. It was always with him as the powerful one, the king, the ruler, and Shreya was just one of the spoils of his throne. A soft hearted wench found among the city’s populace who would serve as tonight’s dessert for the king. And she had better be a good girl and submit to his demands.

Her phone rang. Shit! It never rang at work unless it was an emergency.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Can I speak to Mrs. Chowdhury.”

“Speaking, although I have been divorced for five months. I prefer Ms. Bhatt now.”

“Indeed. Forgive me. I am Candice Bell, office supervisor at Sir John MacDonald Elementary School. Aanya has been complaining of having a severe headache. I wonder if you are in a position to take her home.”

She was. It took her fifteen minutes to drive west across town to the school where her daughter studied. It was after 1PM when they both reached home near Richmond Road and Woodroffe Avenue. Once Aanya had been given a drink and then a drop of kid’s ibuprofen, she went to her bed and quickly fell into a lush sleep.

Those tight assholes at the Agency better pay me for today, Shreya thought as she took off her jodhpurs in her bedroom. She substituted them for a denim skirt. She put on a hooded Bongo top to replace her work shirt, which ended up in her laundry basket. Then she remembered that she had missed lunch at work so still needed to feed her stomach. There was some leftover dal, lemon rice and curried chicken in the fridge from yesterday’s dinner, which Shreya crammed onto one plate and shoved into the microwave.

Her daughter had been dealt with, her stomach had been dealt with. What was left?

My other hunger.

KASS.

For the uninitiated and anyone else it stood for Kinder Aid Social Society, a kind of social network for philanthropic adults. For the initiated, it stood for Kick Ass Super Sex. An elite sexual network for consenting adults.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Shreya’s ex-husband had a one route style for sex. He would paw at her from the get-go. Kissing her rough and furiously on her lips and breasts. Then he would stick his finger inside her and thrust away, expecting Shreya to become an immediate bubbling pot of insatiable desire. The sex was long. Too long. Lots of grunting and pushing. Of course, once he had ejaculated he rolled off her and it was all over. She was expected to have enjoyed it because who doesn’t enjoy sex?

Screw that!

Shreya had realised from her early adult life that she had a high sex drive. She had hoped that the arranged Hindu marriage would at least mean she would have a constant supply of sex. That she got, but it was self-focused, route one sex that made her feel dry. So Shreya went behind her husband’s and cheated on him. She met a few guys through Ashley Madison. She had such a wide choice of men available in the Ottawa area. She met Ravi, a fellow Canadian of Asian Indian descent, John, an Australian guy working his way through the entire country, and Dexter, a Jamaican guy who had been resident in Canada for two years.

Dexter was the one who mashed her yoni and sent her head spinning. He had a studio flat in the gritty Sandy Hill’s area of downtown. If her husband was unavailable, Shreya would leave Aanya with her parents. Dexter was all about sex. He was almost as self-focused as her husband, but he had a powerful rhythm when making love that almost always made her cum. He told her straight up that he was seeing other women so was not always available.

John was more reliable and she saw him for a few months. He lived in a number of places. It could be a one bed apartment one week, a bachelor the next, then a room in a house. He had introduced her to KASS. He said that they were very open to having a more diverse membership. So Shreya sailed through an exciting initiation test and joined the sexual elite.

She still had Dexter’s cell phone number. They had kept in touch but he was now based in Montreal. Good luck to that!

The KASS contact number was stuck to a fridge magnet.

“It’s time to look after me,” Shreya said. “My chut needs some attention!”

 

 

 


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