I sat in Nita’s office for another session, waiting for her to finish a team meeting. The regular sessions had helped at first, just by giving me an outlet to talk about what was happening. But lately, our chats with each other had gotten contentious. Nita seemed to be losing patience, maybe because she personally cared about me, and was disappointed that I wasn’t following her advice.
I sat staring at the posters on the wall, which were the same as the ones that used to be in my office. Posters about self-respect, dignity, not taking Pervert Exploit, relying on the machinery in place to help, pitfalls of enabling abusive behavior, etc. I once used them extensively when counseling women. Now I still could not get used to being on the other side of the table. Finally she walked in and saw me. Sighing, she closed the door behind her and took her seat, giving me a questioning look. I couldn’t look her in the eye.
“You were with him again?”
I nodded. She took a pad and started making notes.
“It was supposed to be just once a month. Then it became once a week. And now multiple times a week?” she asked.
“Well, he says he is allowing me to go to the US and after that we won’t meet for months at end, so he wants to make this time count.”
“Allowing you to go? Oh lord, do you hear yourself talk? You now think you are beholden to him about how to live your life?” she sarcastically said.
“No. Of course not.” I protested. “He does have it in his power to disrupt my life. Even more. He isn’t doing that. He has been understanding about the situation. In general he has become more understanding.”
“Understanding!” she scoffed. “I can see that at least there are no bruises on your face this time. So I assume he was gentle.”
“He is never gentle.” I said wanly. “He just left my face alone this time, that’s all.”
“So what did he do?”
“I’d rather not go into the details.”
“Come on Shikha…you know how this works. You have to be honest and talk out loud about it or you won’t be able to come to terms with it. Don’t bottle it up.” she said impatiently.
“Maybe in a little while? Please?” I said.
She tapped her pen on the pad for a few seconds staring at me.
“Shikha, look at me.”
I did. The expression on her face was one of sadness and anger.
“Let’s go to the police.”
“This again!” I got angry. “You know very well why I cannot go to the police!”
“The pictures and videos?”
“Yes!!”
“How long are you going to keep fooling yourself with that excuse? This is textbook denial and hedging. There are ways to limit the damage from that. Besides, all the policemen know you and respect you. They will work extra hard…”
“I have heard all this before.” I snapped at her. “You don’t get it. It’s not that straightforward, Nita, it is…”
And I suddenly stopped mid-sentence. I had used the exact same words Parvati had used the first time we met and I was convincing her to go to the police. I bit my lips to fight back tears.
“Every woman in an abusive relationship thinks her case is special, and there is some reason or the other to keep taking the Pervert Exploit.”
“What do you mean relationship?” I angrily said. “It is not a damn relationship, Nita! The man Molestationd me and is now blackmailing me!”
“Shikha, stop being so blind. Of course it’s a relationship, whether you like the idea or not.”
“Nonsense!”
“How long has it been since that first night?”
“Four months.”
“And since then, how many times have you and he spent time together like that?”
I stopped and counted.
“Ten times.”
“And each time, approximately how many times do the two of you have sex?”
“Four or five times.”
“How long has it been since Anup came back to help with wrapping up things for the move to California?”
“Two weeks.”
“And how often have you and your husband had sex in the two weeks?”
I stayed silent and glared at her. She knew it was an unfair question. It’s not like I did not want to do it. I just could not willy-nilly have sex with Anup with all the tell-tale bruises on my body. It had to only be at night, in the darkness. Fortunately, Anup had always favored turning the lights off before sex at night. Besides, he was busy with work in addition to all the moving chores, so most nights, he had come home late and tired.
“Face it, Shikha. You and Lallan have an abusive relationship. By not going to the police, and by not telling your husband or anyone else except me, you are tacitly agreeing to be his mistress. It might have started off as just a forcible encounter and blackmailing. But now that Anup is in Delhi, you and Lallan are still spending time together behind his back. That is infidelity. That is a relationship.”
I knew on some level that she was right. But I was not yet ready to accept it.
“This time he did not drink because of his daughter’s birthday party. He gets the most violent and cruel when he is drunk. So this time, although there was a lot of the usual…you know, spanking, biting, and so on, it wasn’t like brutally bad.”
“Do you hear yourself? Again, textbook battered woman in denial. You are seeking relief in small mercies.”
I sighed and shook my head. Everything she was saying is what I would have said if I were in her position. And yet, I could not accept it.
“I was going to ask you about the party. I heard from Salma that you were there.”
Salma was the new case worker hired in my place and assigned to the Parvati case. Since Parvati had recanted her complaints and got back with her husband, her job was to keep tabs on their family life, make sure things were indeed normal like Parvati claimed. So she had been invited to the birthday party in their slum. She and I exchanged a few pleasantries, but mostly, we stayed away from each other. I could sense there was curiosity and suspicion in her gaze.
“Did she…does she…I mean…”
“Does she suspect there is something going on between you and that family going beyond just being a friendly ex-case-worker?”
“Yeah.”
“She didn’t explicitly say it to me.” Nita said. “But she was a little surprised that you were there at the party. How did you end up there, by the way?”
“Lallan insisted.” I shrugged. “He said he wanted me to see first hand the results of my “help” in dealing with his darkness. And how it had improved his family life.”
“Wasn’t Parvati surprised to see you there?”
“She was. Also, she was happy to see me. That led to an…odd encounter too.”
“Tell me about it”. Nita sat back as I narrated
—–
The party was being held in an open area in the corner of the slums. There were a bunch of kids, some neighbors and family friends and also relatives of the couple. There was a table with simple snacks like potato chips, samosas, chocolates, tea, soft drinks. A few balloons, as much as the family could afford. And a few simple gifts the other kids had brought.
The men and women were sitting and socializing separately. I had a short awkward conversation with Salma, who was clearly feeling as out of place as I was. After that, she put her bluetooth on and moved to a side, talking with someone.
I had no idea who else to talk to. The other women were nice and respectful, like slum women would be to a memsaab, asking frequently if I wanted more food or drinks. Lallan was circulating among the men, some of whom kept stealing glances at me. A couple of them would snicker or wink when they looked at me. I assumed these were his close friends who knew who I was to Lallan. I suddenly realized they might even have the pictures and videos on their phones, and it made me blush.
“Thank you for coming, Shikha memsaab.” Parvati appeared by my side.
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Parvati. So…things are going well with Lallan?”
“Yes. Going…going well.” she said half-heartedly. I instinctively raised my eyebrows and she looked away pursing her lips.
“That’s good to hear.” I said, not wanting to really pull at that thread. But Parvati wanted to, apparently.
“Memsaab…I never got to apologize to you. So let me say, I am very sorry. You went through all that trouble to help me out, get us put up in Jaipur, get that job, and so on. But when Lallan showed up…” she stopped. “After I called him of course. It just seemed…you know…family is family after all. These are his daughters. And he is really good with them like I said. And he is working full time. He raised extra money to throw this party that we could never have afforded until he started working. I am sorry if I disappointed you.”
“No need to apologize, Parvati. It’s your life. As long as you are happy and your daughters are happy, that’s all that matters.” saying to myself in my mind, you have no idea of the price I am paying for your happiness.
“Can I…talk to you…here by the side?” she said in a low voice.
I was reluctant to talk more than we needed to, but I went with her.
“Memsaab…can’t you be my case worker again? Salma memsaab is nice, but somehow…I felt more comfortable with you.”
“I don’t work there anymore, Parvati. I quit. I am going to America.”
“I know. I know. But maybe just temporarily.”
“Sorry, that’t not how it works.”
“It’s just that…well…things are much better with Lallan. No more beatings or drunken fights. But still…something is off.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think…I think he is cheating on me with someone.” she said and looked right into my eyes.
For a second, I was taken aback and terrified that she was accusing me. That she knew. She had found out.
“Oh..with…with whom?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean…he has never been faithful anyway. He went to whores even before. And now, with his job taking him on long trips, I can understand if he does. I don’t care about whores. All these men do that.” she said pointed towards the men, where Lallan was standing watching us talk.
“Then?”
“Something seems different. Like…he is with someone in particular. Someone who is giving him things that…he used to get from me.” she said bitterly.
“Well, you should talk to Salma about it.”
“It’s not the same rapport as with you.” she pleaded. “I can’t be as open. For example…I feel embarrassed saying this…there were certain things he did to me..in bed…that I initially didn’t like, but then, got used to.”
“Oh.” With a pit in my stomach, I said.
“You won’t understand. It’s like some rough stuff. Not that I want him to be extra violent or abusive. But within limits…oh god I feel so embarrassed.” she blushed.
I didn’t say anything. What could I say, even though I knew exactly what she was saying.
“Nowadays he is nice and gentle. But…too gentle. And just his general behavior. The way he just disappears for hours sometimes even when he is in the city. It all just seems…suspicious.”
That’s when Lallan came walking towards us, so Parvati stopped talking and smiled.
“Memsaab, thank you for coming.” he said in an exceedingly polite way that seemed very out of place from our normal interactions.
“Happy to be here.” I said.
“You told me to remind you when it was 7 o’ clock? You said you had some other function to attend?” he said.
“Oh right. Yes. Thank you.” I caught the hint. “I should get going.”
“I will drop you to a taxi.” he said.
“Thanks for having me, Parvati.” I said. And then walked away with Lallan, as Salma waved goodbye while still on the phone.
——
I took a deep breath and sat back as Nita looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“So…how does that interaction with Parvati make you feel? Now that you have found out that your supposed self-sacrifice is also encroaching on their sex life?”
“Horrible, but what can I do about it?”
“A lot! Again, you were the one telling options in situations like these. Now you are basically the mistress of one of your case’s husbands!”
“I am not his mistress!” I yelled. “I am his victim!”
“I don’t need to tell you what a thin line separates those two!” Nita yelled back. “Accept it. You are his mistress. He is your lover.”
“No.”
“You are married to your husband. He is married to his wife. Like she has guessed, this is not some random whoring around that she could condone. She senses intuitively, there is another woman. Imagine how devastated she will be when she finds out YOU are that other woman.”
“She won’t find out.”
“Still, you just stood there and listened quietly while she told you her husband is cheating on her, while you are the one enabling that cheating.”
“I am not enabling it. I am helping contain it.”
“And what about Anup? Are you being fair to him? You clearly have some sort of an abusive co-dependent and sexual connection with that Lallan fellow. How can you continue the charade of having a happy married life? At least leave Anup and spare him the humiliation and disrespect.”
“I love Anup!” I got up and yelled. “He is my life! He is the love of my life! I am not disrespecting him. I am making the best of a bad situation. A situation that will get easier in a couple of months.”
“Sit down.” Nita sternly said.
“No! Your job is to help me cope with what is happening. You are making me feel even more worthless and guilty than I already do every minute of the day.”
“Why do you feel worthless and guilty if you aren’t doing anything wrong?”
“I didn’t say I am not doing anything wrong. I am. But I don’t have a choice.”
Nita sat back and sighed.
“Let’s get back to this later. For now, sit down and tell me what happened next. He took you away from the party, supposedly to drop you to a taxi?”
I breathed heavily for a while glaring at her, tempted to walk out. But then I sat down.
“He led me through the narrow bylanes of the slums, as you said, supposedly to drop me to a taxi. There were people milling around, so he didn’t say anything to me. But then he took a couple of turns that were going away from the main road, and I realized, with a sinking feeling, that the night wasn’t over. We finally reached a relatively empty part of the slums and then he suddenly stopped in front of a hunt and pushed me inside.”
“Did you resist him in any way or at least show your reluctance?”
“No. What would have been the point?” I shrugged. “The hut was empty and musty and covered in cobwebs. He closed the door and said, this will have to be quick. As he unzipped his pants and pushed me to my knees, I asked him, didn’t he want to know what Parvati and I were talking about. He shrugged and said, he didn’t care, and that I should suck his dick instead of talking. Holding his dick in my hand, I looked up at him and said, she suspects you of having an affair. And she misses the rough stuff. He looked a little surprised and then started laughing. Said it was hilarious that his wife was sharing her suspicions with me of all people, who was a worthless slut aching for being slapped around and buggered.”
“A boorish way to put it, but an accurate one.” Nita interjected. I ignored her and continued.
“He then slapped me, not very hard, and said, you like this don’t you? I glared at him. He asked me to stop talking nonsense, take my clothes off, and start sucking his dick, because he needed to get back to the party. As I stripped, he got on his knees. Which meant that once I got naked, I had to be on all fours in front of him and suck his dick. He took his belt and whipped my ass with it for a couple of minutes as I sucked him to a hard erection. He also reached under my torso and squeezed and pinched my boobs a few times. As he did that, he said a couple of times how he was being a lot more gentle, because my husband was around, and he didn’t want to leave too many scars for him to see. So as I said earlier, he wasn’t exactly gentle, but a lot less violent than other times.”
“Which was a good thing, you think?” Nita asked.
“Of course.” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“What are you implying?”
“I am just asking if you truly liked the fact that he was less violent than usual.” Nita said. “As we have talked in the past few months, I get the feeling you somehow…like the violence. Maybe sexually. It’s not unheard of. A lot of people derive pleasure from intense pain in sado-masochist sex. But i think it’s beyond just the sex for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you also like getting beaten up because you sub-consciously think of it as a well-deserved punishment for what you are doing. Having an adulterous relationship that you have started to derive pleasure from. Maybe gotten addicted to. The hard blows, the bruises, the intense pain…it helps you alleviate your guilt and your self-loathing. Because even though Parvati and Anup don’t know, at least somehow you are getting punished.”
I looked at Nita quietly, unsure of how to respond. This analysis did seem to make sense. But for me to accept that I actually wanted that Pervert Exploit was even more demeaning than wanting it.
“Anyway, continue. I am guessing he penetrated you soon, and there was more Pervert Exploit involved.”
“Yes. He mounted me, fucked me hard, spanking my ass, pulling my hair, putting his fingers in the sides of my mouth and pulling. The usual stuff really.”
“And you did not cum this time, did you?”
I was surprised at the question. It was almost prescient.
“No, I didn’t!” I said. “I thought it was because it was all so hurried and rushed. But now…I don’t know…”
“Maybe this time you did not cum because he didn’t beat you up or slap you around as he usually does?”
I put my face in my hands.
“Have you been having orgasms the few times that you have had sex with Anup since he returned?”
“Well…when he goes down on me and uses his tongue, yes. But during sex, no.”
“Has he noticed the difference?”
“No, because…I never had vaginal orgasms with him anyway. Or anyone else but Lallan.”
“And you said Lallan isn’t particularly big down there?”
“No.”
“Hmmm.”
We were both quiet as the analytical parts of our brains computed all this together. It’s not something that had never occurred to me. I had just pushed it away when I thought about it. But here it was, all laid bare in a psychologist’s office.
“So…continue.”
“There isn’t much more. He humped me like that, from behind, with moderate Pervert Exploit, for about ten minutes. Then he made me turn around again and fucked my mouth, and ejaculated inside.”
“You swallowed, of course?”
“Yes. He insists on it.” I said. “Well, then we got dressed. I took a taxi home and he went back to the party.”
“Hmmm…I would love to talk more about this but I have a meeting with one of the trustees.” Nita said. “But think about everything I have said, Shikha. It is time you start accepting certain truths about who you have become and what kind of a situation you are in.”
——-
I got up to leave. Nita also got up and gave me a tender hug.
“I will think about what you have said. I don’t agree with a lot of it, but I know you mean well and I value your expertise.” I said.
“Yes. And maybe try broaching this subject with Lallan too. When are you meeting him next? In a few days I am sure.”
“No…it will be a couple of weeks. He is going on a long haul trip to the South. He said that’s one reason he wanted yet another go after the party. For the road.” I said.
“Oh! Well that’s good news!” Nita genuinely smiled. “Maybe those two weeks away will give you the time and distance you need to face facts. And make you come terms with your abusive relationship with him, now that he isn’t banging his agenda into you every few days.”
“And please, try to reconnect with Anup. You say you love him. I believe you. Spend as much time with him as you can. Make love often. Try to rekindle whatever it was you two had in the early days.”
“Yes, Nita.” And I left.
Nita was right, although somehow I could not admit it to her or even myself that day. But as I thought more and more about it, the clearer it became. Things between Lallan and me had indeed gone beyond just the blackmail and non-consent stage. I was now effectively in a full-fledged relationship with him. He was like my secret second husband and I was like his secret second wife. It was an abusive relationship, but one I was hooked to. Just like the dozens of women I had counseled over the years.
This point was really driven home to me, not in a couple of days but a couple of weeks that I got away from Lallan.
Almost two weeks later, I was standing in the driveway of the Hyatt in Ahmedabad, clutching my small travel bag and purse, and looking towards the road. I was nervous and my heart was pounding. A loud internal voice kept berating me for being there, but I kept trying to ignore it.
“You sure you don’t want me to call you a taxi, madam?” the doorman wandered over and asked again.
“Yes I am sure. I am just waiting for someone like I said.” I was dressed in a black formal skirt suit with a blue blouse underneath, looking very much like any business traveler at the Hyatt.
I had downed a couple of stiff whiskeys at the hotel bar before stepping out at the designated time. I was feeling just a mild buzz, but it had been necessary to calm my nerves. Even after all that I had done with Lallan over the last few months, tonight was risk-taking at a whole different level.
“Are you staying here, madam or just here for the conference?” he asked again. It was close to midnight, and there weren’t too many people around, so I guess he was just making polite chit-chat.
“Conference.” I said.
“Which one? The Medical one or the Banking one?” he asked.
“Medical.” I said, wishing he would go away.
“So you are a doctor, huh?” he asked and I nodded. “I hope my daughter grows up to become a doctor. She is does very well at school.”
“That’s nice.”
“In fact she says…” he started talking when there was a loud whistle from the road at the end of the driveway.
We both looked in that direction, and I saw Lallan standing there waving at me. He had the top two buttons of his shirt open and was sporting a thick beard. The doorman looked at him and then at me as I pulled the purse over my shoulder and started walking.
“That’s my driver.” I nonchalantly said, in case the doorman was wondering why a high class woman in a formal skirt suit was walking towards a visibly lower class man.
“Oh ok.” he nodded, but he had a look of suspicion on his face. Lallan looked too scruffy to be a driver for someone like me.
I sprinted a little down the driveway and towards Lallan. I held out my bag towards him and he just stared at it.
“What am I, your coolie, you cunt?” he said in a low voice.
“The doorman is watching. I told him you’re my driver.” I whispered.
He looked at the doorman and then reluctantly took the bag. Then he turned around and started walking. I followed him.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“The truck is parked just down the road.” he said. “I didn’t know if they would let a truck pull into the front entrance of your precious five star hotel.”
“Truck???” I asked, surprised.
“Yes, truck, you stupid bitch. Have you forgotten what I work as?” he growled.
“But on the phone you said…”
“I know what I said. Change of plans.” he said, handed the bag back to me, and started walking faster.
With the heels, it took some effort to keep up. But I managed.
“So your thing is done…what did you say…conference? What is that?” he asked.
“It’s just an event where people in the same line of work meet and discuss ideas.”
“Hmmm…sounds like a rich people thing. Is that why you are dressed like an English memsaab?” he said, eyeing my clothes.
“Yes.”
“I have riped a lot of clothes off your body, but never this. It will be a nice change.” he said and started laughing.
Finally we turned around the corner and sure enough, there was a truck waiting there. It was one of those old trucks, with an orange chassis and rickety back carriage covered in tarp. I saw a middle aged man sitting behind the wheel, who nodded at Lallan, and then looked intently at me.
“Lallan!” I said in a worried voice ad he jumped up to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Climb in.” he said, giving me his hand.
“But…I…you said we would be in a lodge…”
“Like I said, change of plans. I want you to meet my friends. Climb in.” he said again.
“Lallan…I’m not sure I want to do this.” I said with some urgency in my voice.
Lallan nodded and climbed down. My heart started beating a little faster. He had that stern look on his face.
“Memsaab.” he said with fake syrupy sweetness. “Are you saying you are worried getting into a truck in the middle of the night in Ahmedabad?”
I didn’t say anything, because I knew it wasn’t a genuine question.
“Would you like to just go back to the hotel and spend the night there alone? Please, by all means, do that.”
I looked down at my feet, knowing better than to argue or talk back.
“Of course, we made this detour to Ahmedabad for you. So if you chicken out now, I am going to have to take this nice expensive suit of yours as compensation. You can walk back to the hotel, naked, in the middle of the night.”
I sighed, knowing as I always had, that resistance was futile. And his threat wasn’t empty. I took my heels off, hung them against my purse, and climbed on the ramp holding his hand.
Lallan grabbed my ass over my skirt as he pushed me into the truck cabin. He muttered he’d missed that.
That dimly lit cabin was like a whole different world of its own. I realized that although I had seen millions of such trucks throughout my life, I had never peeked inside one of them, much less sit in one.
“This is Munaf Bhai. He owns and drives the truck, so he is my boss I guess.” Lallan pushed me on a barely cushioned seat and said.
I just nodded at the middle aged chubby man staring at me intently. He nodded back. And then he said,
“You look nice with clothes on too.”
Laughter filled the small cabin. I instantly went deep red and looked away. He had said it in such a flat matter-of-fact way, like he was complimenting my shoes or something. The comment implied that he was one of the guys Lallan had shared the pictures and maybe even the videos with. Lallan was laughing hard, slapping my knee in amusement instead of his own. Munaf was chuckling. And I heard laughter coming from behind me too.
So I looked back. There was a young burly man of about 20, sitting on a bench behind us, laughing it up. In the dim light, I could not make out his face very clearly.
“This is Tony. The other driver.” Lallan said. Tony kept laughing and then he squirmed a little.
I heard a soft cough, but it wasn’t from either of the three men.
“Oh…and that down there is Kanta.”
I leaned over the back of the seat and was shocked to see a stocky young woman, buck naked, squatting on the floor and sucking Tony’s dick. With the dick still in her mouth, she turned her wide-open eyes towards me. We stared into each others eyes for a few seconds, two women, strangers to each other, finding ourselves in this dingy truck cabin.
I looked away as the truck started moving. The men finally stopped laughing, although there was still the occasional chuckle. I felt Lallan’s hands on my chest and he squeezed my boobs.
“We were just wondering who has bigger tits, you or Kanta. From the pictures, it seems like you. But Tony insists it’s her.” he said casually.
“Lallan.” I whispered. “Kanta…is she…who is…I mean is she here…”
“What?” he asked, stroking my ass over my skirt with his other hand.
“Is she here of her own will?” I asked. The counselor psychologist in me was wondering if this woman had been forced or kidnapped or something. She did seem to be sucking the dick intently, but the look in her eyes wasn’t exactly one of joy.
“As much as you are here of your own will.” Lallan said and snickered.
I stared at him trying to figure out what exactly that meant. I knew how I had ended up here. What was her story? Suddenly, the lights were turned off and the cabin went dark. Only the street light filtered in.
“Lallan…there are usually cops on this road.” Munaf said in a tense voice.
“Oh right!” Lallan said.
And I suddenly felt his hand on my head and my body was pushed away from him and low, until it was leaving against Munaf’s side.
“You understand, memsaab.” Lallan said. “If cops see a woman in a truck like this, obviously they are going to stop us and ask why. So you need to stay down. That’s why we have Kanta in the back and down on the floor.”
Munaf’s shirt reeked of body odor. I tried to breathe through my mouth.
“Don’t worry, we will be stopping soon, memsaab. Until then, remember, this is Munaf bhai’s truck. He is our host. While you’re down there, why don’t you follow Kanta’s lead and thank him for his hospitality and the very nice compliment he paid you.”
I saw Munaf take one hand off the wheel and unzip his pants. An erect thick dick poked out. It was clear what was expected of me but I still looked back at Lallan with a pleading expression. He just smiled and then his hand started pulling my skirt up. Tony leaned forward as my upper thighs and panties were revealed.
“Oh man…look at that ass!”
Lallan raised his left hand high and landed a stinging hard spank on my butt over my panties. I squealed.
“Suck his dick, memsaab.”
I winced and looked at the erect dick in front of me and slid a bit forward. There was no point in arguing or fighting back. This was the situation I found myself in. All alone, in a truck with three horny working class men and a naked woman. I was a long way away from home, from my husband, my social circle. And the night did not look like it was going to get any less humiliating.
Opening my mouth wide, I reminded myself, that this one was not entirely or even partly on Lallan. Me finding myself here in this situation, was all my fault. And I thought about all the impulsive stupid decisions and lies that had ended up with me sideways on a truck seat, about to give a blowjob to a stranger.
—
I had done my best to follow Nita’s advice to take the two weeks without Lallan as an opportunity to think things through and also reconnect with Anup. It worked, as much as it could.
Anup is a loving, caring, and insightful man who knows me better than anyone else. From the moment he had landed and come home, he could sense something was off. He didn’t know what exactly it was. But he could sense something was wrong. He had asked me, first subtly and then directly, what was going on. I had tried my best to wave off his concerns, saying it was nothing. or that I was just nervous about leaving my old life behind and starting a new one in a new country. or that I was intimidated about the quality of fellow students and professors at Stanford. He would nod, but I could see he was not entirely convinced.
Thankfully, his work kept him super busy. Returning for a short stint meant a lot of meetings and presentations with the offshore team in the office. So it wasn’t like he was home all day. We went out for dinners, drinks, met our friends and family, and had sex with increasing regularity. Lallan had been mercifully less intense with his beatings and plus Anup usually liked turning the lights off during sex. So there were no visual clues for him about what I had been through.
The Lallan-less days ticked on, one by one. It almost seemed like a return to our old life. With one change. We were now having sex every night, often two or three times a night. It felt very comforting and reassuring, but there was still a lot of chaos and self-doubt in my mind.
One evening, I was at home, watching some brainless Hindi comedy movie, when Anup walked in.
“Hi honey, I’m home.” he said.
“Oh hey!” I got up and smiled at my loving perfect husband. “Would you like me to join me for some whiskey-soda?”
He saw the glass in my hand, gave me half a smile and nodded. He took his shoes off, put his bag in the bedroom and joined me on the couch. I handed him his glass. He looked at the bottle that was on the table and close to half empty.
“Thanks.” he said.
I leaned in and kissed him passionately. He kissed me back. We made out for a few seconds and then I sat back.
“How was your day at work?” I asked.
“Not bad. Not bad.” he said casually. “Looks like you started early today.”
He pointed towards the bottle.
“Oh just a couple of hours ago.” I shrugged and smiled. “To get nice and liquored for my hunk.”
We kissed again. I unbuttoned his shirt partly and rubbed his chest. He put his arm around me.
“That bottle was full when I left.” he said.
I froze and then sat up. And stare at him.
“What are you saying, Anup?”
“Nothing.” he got defensive. Then he frowned. “Okay…don’t get upset Shikha…but you have been drinking a lot these past few weeks.”
“Since when do you have a problem with your wife drinking? Are you like one of those men who…” I said, miffed.
“Oh come on!” he interrupted me. “You know I don’t mean it like that.”
“Then how do you mean it?”
“Honey, you know I like my drink and I like sharing drinks with you. We have explored so many different brands and liquors together over the years.” he said.
“So what’s your problem?” I said angrily. Even then, the rational analyst part of me was saying, you know he has a point, and you are being extra defensive.
“You’re drunk almost every night when I get home, Shikha!” he said, raising his voice a little. “Not just one or two drinks. you are at least 4-5 drinks down. Every night. When we go out with friends, you down your drinks so fast, no one else can keep up. You’re slurring every night. That’s not you!”
“Well, I’m not the one who puked all over the Bedis’ couch and then passed out in front of everyone!” I said, and immediately felt bad for bringing it up.
I could see he was annoyed.
“Shikha, that was five years ago. I got carried away. Drank too much. Puked, made a fool of myself. I am still ashamed of it. And since then, I have never come close to repeating anything like that.” he said.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I said.
“Sorry if I’m out of line, Shikha. But…this is unusual. Remember we used to talk about how all that huge collection can’t be finished by the time we leave. I come back and find most of the bottles I collected are gone. And you have bought a bunch of new ones. It’s like you have been downing an entire bottle a day. You’re drunk every night.”
“Not too drunk for you to fuck every night!” I said, again regretting it as soon as I said it.
He looked really hurt and confused at that statement. And just looked away. I could see his eyes get a little moist. I felt horrible. Maybe he needed a little reassurance.
“Okay fine. Maybe I have been over-indulging a bit. A lot. More than ever before. But come on, Anup, I am on my first ever break in years. I quit my job. I am moving to a new country. I am…”
“Yes, you are nervous about the PhD, the life there…I have heard all that before.”
“Don’t fucking cut me off and condescend to me!” I snapped.
He was taken aback. I was not one to display flashes of temper.
“Sorry.” he said, sulking, and sat back.
I also sat back, wondering what to say next. In all honesty, I knew he was right. I was drinking too much. I was not myself. He knew me better than anyone. He could tell. I could be honest with him. He would be angry, but would understand. Maybe he would help me deal with everything.
Call it fate’s cruel sense of humor, but that was the exact moment my phone started ringing. I recognized the number, although I had never saved it. It was my second husband. Calling just as I was in the middle of a raw argument with my first husband. Lallan had not called since that night of his daughter’s birthday party. He had left for his long haul trip the very next day. This was the first time since then that he was calling.
“Sorry sweetie, I have to take this. Work stuff.” I said, getting up.
“Ok.” he nodded, looking at the TV, still sulking.
I walked to the bedroom, closed the door and locked it. And then answered the phone.
“What took you so long, cunt?” Lallan’s voice boomed through.
“Sorry, I was busy.” I said.
“Getting fucked, no doubt.”
“No.” I said.
“If I was there right now, I would be fucking you hard hard hard, you slut. But I am here in Baroda instead.” he sounded a little drunk.
“Oh ok.”
“Whores don’t have your body or your stamina, you know, memsaab?” I always found it weird how he kept alternating between cunt, slut, and memsaab. Maybe the mentions of memsaab were necessary to fed his ego and remind him that he had a high class wife as his bitch.
“I see.”
“Does your husband make you wail during orgasms the way I do?”
I usually just ignored his questions about my husband. And he usually didn’t push me too much. But this time, I surprised myself by answering,
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I knew it! No one can satisfy you like I can!”
I cringed and felt like crying. It was true. I was not his victim. I was his mistress.
“I wish I wasn’t here in Baroda tonight. I really want you tonight. I can’t wait to be back. I will be back in 4 days. And then bang you like the bitch you are, memsaab. How is Delhi?”
This is when I made that impulsive and stupid mistake. I say it was a mistake. And I can justify it saying I was drunk and angry at my husband. But I knew there was something deeper at play. Even after having sex with Anup every night since Lallan left, and liking that sex as it happened, I said what I said next. A complete lie.
“I am…not in Delhi.” I said.
And then I rushed to my computer in the bedroom and opened up a travel booking site.
“Where are you then?”
I typed a couple of things. It took a few seconds to get the results.
“Hey cunt, I asked you something!”
“Sorry…I am in Ahmedabad.” I said. “For a work conference.”
There was silence on the line for a few seconds.
“Ahmedabad?” he asked pointedly.
“Yes.” I said.
“Is your husband with you?”
“No.” I said, hating myself for this elaborate and needy stunt.
He was silent for a while and I could hear some muffled conversations in the background. Finally he spoke,
“Listen, cunt. I am just a couple of hours away. We were going to drive to Indore next, but if you’re in Ahmedabad, I need to come there.” he said.
“But Lallan…I am not sure if…” I had become such an accomplished liar that I knew that I needed to put up at least a pretense of reluctance.
“Shut up!” he yelled. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”
“Sorry.”
“Where is this conference thing in Ahmedabad?”
“Oh…umm…the Hyatt.” I had no idea if there even was a Hyatt in Ahmedabad. But it seemed like a safe enough bet.
“Okay. One second.”
There were a few muffled conversations again. And then he was back on the line.
“So…here’s what is going to happen. I will be coming to Ahmedabad. I will take you to a lodge or something and we will spend the night together. And make up for these past two weeks. Be outside the Hyatt at 1130.”
“Lallan please…what you are asking is so…”
“Cunt, don’t you know by now what I can do to you? Just because I have been nice to you recently, you think you can raise your voice to me?”
“Okay…okay…sorry.” I said.
“1130. Outside the Hyatt. Got it?”
“Yes.”
He hung up.
As the conversation had been happening, I had been booking an air ticket online simultaneously. Done with that, I tok a deep breath, felt another bout of guilt and self-loathing, and walked out.
Anup was sitting on the couch watching TV. He looked at me.
“Sorry Anup…I have to fly to Ahmedabad immediately.”
“What? Why?” he was surprised.
“It’s about one of the cases I was counseling last year. It has a crucial court hearing early tomorrow in Ahmedabad.” I said, hoping I sounded believable.
“What’s wrong? Why do you have to go?” he got up, sounding worried.
“Honey, you know I can’t discuss my cases with you. Confidentiality clauses.” I said, walking back into the bedroom and pulling out a travel bag.
He followed me, saying,
“I know. I know.” and was silent for a few seconds. “Listen…I am sorry about earlier.”
“No, it’s fine.” I said, stuffing a few clothes into the bag. “We will talk about it later.”
“I’ll drop you to the airport.” he said.
“I’ll just call an Uber.” I said. “You’ve had a long day. And I’ll be back in a day or two.”
“Oh okay.”
Anup helped me pack. He was actually helping me pack as I took an impulsive trip to see Lallan. I hated what I had become. But I couldn’t help it. I needed Lallan. I needed him right away.
On the way to the airport, I looked up the address to the Hyatt Ahmedabad. I was still a little under the influence of alcohol, so to dissuade any questions or suspicions, I changed into the skirt suit before boarding the flight. If there is one thing everyone in the Indian service industry respects, it is formal clothing.
When I landed in Ahmedabad and took a cab to the Hyatt, there was still an hour left before Lallan’s specified time. As I stepped into the hotel, I suddenly felt the ful weight of what I had done. I had lied to my husband and lied to Lallan to engineer this hook-up in the middle of the night in a random city.
I had a couple of drinks at the bar before stepping out at 1130 and waited for my tormentor, my lover, my second husband.
And that’s how I had ended up with this strange man’s dick in my mouth in a moving truck as Lallan rained spanks on my half-exposed ass.
Credit goes to original writer Shiprat