The Taste of the Forbidden Fruit

I was only 24 years when I was married to Chetan, who was 27 then. Ours was a social marriage, arranged by our respective parents. I was not beautiful in the ordinary sense but looked charming with my youthful bodily treasures, sparkling eyes and an overtly sense of sexuality emanating from me.

Chetan enjoyed my features and we made robust love. For a year, our marital life was full of fun and delight. But after about eighteen months a sudden dark shadow loomed on our life.

Chetan, who worked as a Sr. Accounts Officer, was caught in a case of financial embezzlement amounting to five lakhs. I didn't believe that Chetan unduly amassed the money. He always believed in simple living. But it seemed he was careless in disbursing the amount to the client and didn't verify the claims. To make the things worst, someone unknown transferred the same amount to Chetan's account. The circumstances were against Chetan and his company decided to sack him from the job and hand over Chetan to the police.

It was a terrible situation for the family. His parents were dependent on Chetan. His younger brother, Rajan, who was 21 at that time and a college student, was dependent on Chetan for his studies. So the whole family was crestfallen and was even afraid to imagine what was going to happen.

Things got worst, when Chetan's boss, Mr. Samad, came out with the most indecent proposal to save Chetan's job and protect him from getting arrested, provided Chetan agreed to get transferred to a branch office outside the state for about one year to let the issue cool down and during Chetan's tenure outside I agree to serve Mr. Samad in the privacy of our bedroom.

Both Chetan and me were angry and humiliated at such obscene proposal from a man, who is in his mid-forties and had an evil facial appearance. Even before sharing with me about the indecent proposal, Chetan created a noisy scene in Mr. Samad's chamber, calling him a pervert and showering all the dirty abuses on him.

He came home that evening like a totall distraught fellow, tired and angry. When I asked him the reason, he told about Mr. Samad's proposal and the way he behaved with him. I felt insulted and upset and started to hate my youthful body because it was my body that created lust in a man. For the first time I wished if I had been an ugly woman, perhaps I wouldn't have had to face such humiliation that a stranger would suggest my husband to send me to the bed of the former.

I and Chetan cried together at the insulting proposal for sometime and then boldly decided to face whatever might come on our way and to show Mr. Samad his place. However, we really had no idea about reach and conspiring abilities of powerful men.

Next morning, we decided that Chetan should look for some alternative job as his company was not going to retain him, particularly after he had turned down Mr. Samad's dirty proposal. But with his tainted credentials with the present employer, it was not easy either to find an employment elsewhere. However, Chetan and I agreed that he would take up job even in a shop or restaurant. So with his motorcycle, Chetan went to nearby town to try his luck.

At around 3 PM, I received a call from an unknown number. Caller ID displayed the name as one Santosh. He was an SI of the nearby town. He told me that the police had conducted a sudden raid and found drugs in the box of Chetan's motorcycle. He was arrested and would be sent to police custody. The SI told me that I could meet him in the evening at the police station. I didn't believe in the allegation of seizure of drugs from Chetan and could feel how he was being fabricated.

Though quite depressed in spirit, I visited the police station to meet Chetan. It was not police station at all, rather a police outpost at the outskirts of the town and was managed by 5/6 constables and an SI, who looked like a villain with red eyes and a dark face full of cut marks. He looked merciless and cruel. It was already dark when I stood in front of his desk.

To my horror, I could hear the constables whispering among themselves about my physical features, the probable size of my breasts and buttocks. Internally, I shivered but maintained a bold appearance. Without letting me meet Chetan, the SI started interrogating me whether I had any idea of Chetan's linkage with drug mafias and whether I was a partner in this illegal trade of narcotics. I tried to maintain my cool and denied all allegations. The SI looked at me with the cool eyes of a python and said, "By tomorrow, your innocent hubby would confess all crimes after we provide him third degree during the night, and shall come to know if you too had any involvement in his illegal trade."

Finally, when I was allowed to meet Chetan in the lock up, his legs and face were already swollen and it was clear that he was considerably beaten. I cried in desperation looking at him. I heard one of the constables telling the SI quite amusingly, "Can't we put her in the lock up too and extract confession from both?"

Chetan also heard this and urged me to leave the police outpost immediately. I was not willing to leave but considering the adverse atmosphere decided to leave. As I was leaving, I heard the SI telling his constables, "The drug peddler has got a hot treasure indeed."

As I was on my way back to home, my phone rang, it was Mr. Samad. He said in a cool voice, "My offer is still open. There will be no FIR against Chetan and he will have his job. Only he will be transferred to out of the state to let the issue cool down."

I felt both angry and insulted at his suggestion and sharply replied, "Chetan already gave you the reply. So stop bothering me."

The man was extremely shameless and cool. He said again, "No, I am concerned about your and Chetan's safety. Administration is very strict about drug peddlers. I am afraid they might call you at night to extract confessions and you know how the police behaves at night. Moreover, since you're young they might think about an encounter of Chetan in the darkness of the night and then you lose both Chetan and your..."

I shivered at his suggestion. I never thought about the possibility of being called at that police outpost at night. I didn't know what to do. The attitude of the police personnel was most unfavourable. I couldn't risk the life of Chetan. Mr. Samad had disconnected the call. I called him back. When he picked up the phone, I hastily said, "Please sir, arrange for his release from the police custody. I am ready to do whatever you want. Please make sure that they don't torture Chetan any more."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Samad asked, "If you retract later, Chetan will die a dog's death and you will land up in a cheap brothel."

"I assure you, Sir," I replied with earnestness, "I will not retract."

"Ok then, I am arranging his release," Mr. Samad assured, "But you must show your willingness first. It's 6.30. I will arrive at your place by 7.30. Get ready by then."

After a brief pause, he said again, "I hope you understand what I mean by "get ready". Take bath, wax yourself if necessary. And remember, I wish you to smile and enjoy. If you cry or appear gloomy, I will hand you over to those constables. You already know how they felt about you. By the time you have finished serving me with a cheerful face, your husband will be back to home. Also make preparations for Chetan to join his new posting and he should take up the early morning bus so that he could report for duty before 5 PM tomorrow."

I had nothing to say. I was thinking how Chetan would take my decision to compromise. But it was an extreme situation. I had to save Chetan, I had to bring him out of the police custody. By compromising my honour I would be able to save his job and clear his name from both the cases of financial embezzlement as well as narcotic trade. By the time I came home, I found tears flowing from my eyes uncontrollably. I tried to argue with myself that what I decided was right to save Chetan from further harm, to save his job and protect him from police torture.

But despite all the arguments I couldn't reconcile myself to the disgrace I agreed to bring upon me. What bothered me more was how Chetan would take my decision. I was also afraid if Chetan would accept me after I agreed to compromise my honour. I recalled what Mr. Samad had ordered me that I should present myself cheerfully. It was keeping in mind his instructions that I cried a lot to relieve the mental burden. Then I remembered his other advice and surveyed my body. I noticed little growth of hairs in my armpits and genital area. Even my limbs revealed a little growth of body hairs. I went to the wash room to wax myself lest my body hairs antagonize Mr. Samad.

I came out of the wash room after completing my grooming and my skin was glowing. Just at that moment, my phone rang. I saw it was Mr. Samad calling. I had a day dreaming that Mr. Samad would tell me that he was just testing me and would spare me the humiliation of disgracing my body. I knew it was not probable but still I had a strong intuition that he was going to spare. With a throbbing heart and trembling hands I picked up the call. From the other end Mr. Samad's voice came, "I hope you have prepared yourself by now. I'm arriving in half an hour. By the way, I forgot to ask you, do you have any skimpy dress? I don't like to see you in traditional Indian attire. If you don't have any, I will bring some dress for you."

My anticipation of getting spared belied. My heart was pounding so hard that I could listen my rapid heartbeats. I was unable to speak. My mouth became dry thinking what was to come. Mr. Samad repeated his question about skimpy dress. With much difficulty and faltering voice I told him that I had a few pairs of mini skirts and sleeveless tops, and two sets of knee long baby doll dresses. Mr. Samad assured me, "Ok, any one of these will do. So when I arrive, I wish you to welcome me wearing any of those skimpy outfits."

I simply said, "Ok."

As the phone got disconnected, I put on the lacy icy blue coloured baby doll dress that exposed my legs from the mid thighs and revealed a major part of my cleavage. I looked at the mirror and felt myself to be a whore waiting to welcome a client. Once again tears flowed down my cheeks considering how I was debasing myself. But I immediately wiped my tears dry so that Mr. Samad would not find anything to complaint. I forced false cheerfulness on my face. But it was so hard to fake cheerful looks when one was bleeding at heart. So even though I wiped my tears repeatedly, more the time of Mr. Samad's arrival neared, fresh tears flooded my cheeks.

When it was about ten to eight, I heard a car parking outside our house. I wiped my tears, freshened my face, looked in the mirror for my dress and waited nervously. The door bell rang. My heart was racing fast and I managed to open the door with a broad welcome smiled forced on my face. I felt myself like a whore in a brothel opening door to welcome a customer.

Mr. Samad smiled back looking at me wearing a lacy baby doll dress that instead of hiding only made my bodily features more prominent. I had seen Mr. Samad twice or thrice in the past in official get togethers. But he seemed to have gathered fat at his belly. He was nearly 6 feet tall with muscular body and had dark complexion. He came inside smiling holding a bouquet in one hand and a wrapped package in the other. He offered me the bouquet in a very gracious manner. I thanked him. He bent slightly towards me, his lips brushing lightly like a feather on my cheek. I felt dirty and violated as lips of someone other than Chetan touched my cheek. But I maintained courtesy and requested him to take his seat.

Mr. Samad sat on the long sofa and placed the wrapped package, he had in his hand, on the centre table. He gestured me to sit down. I sat on a single sofa opposite to him and asked him politely if he would like to have some tea or coffee. He smiled and replied, "I want to have only after tea."

At least that's what I heard and understood and unable to make out looked puzzled at Mr. Samad. He seemed to understand my confusion and instead of being bossy gave a friendly smile. I was much relieved at his gesture. He said, "I made a pun, I actually want nothing except what comes after the alphabet T."

My mind clicked then as I understood he meant U, that came after T. I could feel myself blush at his suggestion and my heart was pounding rapidly. I lowered my gaze. Mr. Samad said, as if comforting me, "You're beautiful, but look more beautiful when you blush. Be friendly, dear. I was dreaming about you since the day I saw you first in our office party. Today I can really understand what a treasure you've got."

As he said these words, I could feel his glances moving lustily on my bare arms, my cleavage and from my thighs down to my ankles. I felt like crying to have exposed my body to his lustful glances. But I managed to control my tears and pretended to be ashamed and just said, keeping head bowed, "Sir, please."

Mr. Samad seemed to enjoy my gesture of shame. He said, "You don't know what a nice body you have. Don't ever be afraid or ashamed of your body or its beauty."

I remained quiet. There was actually nothing to say. With every step, Mr. Samad was giving me a feel of what was his purpose of visit. He was very tacitly driving me to his desired end. Finding me quiet, he softly said, "I know it must have been very hard for you to accept the sudden change in situation that you're facing. But I can assure, you will enjoy it no less than me once you get over the initial reservations. Moreover, it will be beneficial for you and Chetan to get out of the mess you're in. You alone could save your husband's job and other harassment."

It was a mild warning too, as I could guess. I also wondered how the man was manipulating the situation driving me slowly to his desired trap and I could do nothing against it. He spoke again, "I know it would be difficult for you to adjust initially. So I brought this thing."

He unwrapped the package kept on the table. It contained a 750 ml bottle of whiskey and some snacks. Mr. Samad said, "Let us have a peg or two of it. You'll feel free and relaxed and your conservative inhibition will go away."

I couldn't maintain my composure any longer and almost cried, as I prayed to him, "Sir, never in life I took such things. Please spare me. I've no objection if you take it."

Mr. Samad was no longer gentle and said in a hoarse voice, "I brought it for you. I care a fig if you object to my taking it. But I would take it seriously if you don't. Go and bring two glasses and a jug of water. Also bring a dish for the snacks. We will drink to each other's health. Remember, Chetan is still at the police outpost. If I leave, the policemen might not be merciful to him. In the worst, they might not be merciful to you either."

Mr. Samad had given his stern message. So I got up. My limbs were trembling. But still I brought two glass tumblers, a dish and a jug of water and placed them on the table. As I was about to take my seat on the sofa opposite to him, he gestured me to be beside him on the long sofa. Reluctantly I took my seat at the other end of the long sofa chair, maintaining a considerable distance from Mr. Samad. He opened the whiskey bottle and poured one peg in each glass. He diluted it with water from the jug and kept the snacks on the plate. Mr. Samad handed a glass to me and then he cheered with me and while sipping a little from his glass, gestured me sip. I sipped despite my unwillingness to drink lest my disobedience antagonize him.

I had no experience of taking alcoholic drink earlier. The bitter taste seemed to burn my throat. Automatically my uncomfortable feelings appeared on my face. Mr. Samad laughed and gestured me to take some snacks and take another sip slowly. I took some snacks, it was spicy and pungent in taste. With it I took two more sips from my glass. He didn't bother to take snacks but took small sips from his glass. As insisted by him, I sipped a few more time. Mr. Samad gestured me to move towards him on the sofa. I moved a few inches towards him. Mr. Samad was not satisfied. He pulled me roughly towards him and pushed his hand inside my baby doll and started groping me. He slipped the straps of my sleeveless baby doll from my shoulders and his hand went inside my bra cup fondling my mounds. I was blushing and pleaded, "Sir please."

Mr. Samad looked at my eyes deeply and said, "You're wonderful baby. You've silky and smooth skin. Tonight, I will enjoy your lovely body."

I felt extremely debased and pleaded, "Have mercy please. I am not that type of woman."

"Why are you ashamed?" asked Mr. Samad as his hand played with one of my nipples, "I'm going to make you that type of woman who will learn to enjoy sex outside marriage and more yoy cheat on your timid hubby more you will enjoy. That's why I asked to drink, it would make you feel bold and free to enjoy."

I was sitting beside Mr. Samad and he held me close to him. On his one hand was his half drunk whiskey glass. He brought the glass near my mouth almost forcing it and commanded, "Drink it completely."

I was in a very baffled state. His one hand was pinching my nipple, while with the other hand he forced me to drink whiskey from his glass. I mildly resisted as I hated to drink from the same glass from which he had been sipping so long. Mr. Samad very casually said, "Sooner you finish sooner will be Chetan released."

Without further resistance, I gulped the remaining whiskey from his glass even though I felt it going down burning my throat. As I finished his glass, he brought my own glass of whiskey that still had one-third filled and gestured me to finish that too. I obeyed without protest. I noticed that Mr Samad was pouring another peg in both the glasses. I was not feeling well after taking the quantity I had already consumed. It was my first experience of consuming alcoholic drink. So I gestured Mr. Samad not to pour further in my glass. He seemed to accept my request and poured another peg only in his glass and started sipping slowly.

Meanwhile his other hand rested on my bare shoulder. It went slowly to my back and I could feel it fiddling with my bra hooks. I moved my body as if feeling some skin irritation. Mr. Samad withdrew his hand from my bare back only to place it on the baby doll covering my thigh. From over the satin he groped my thigh while enjoying the whiskey. But within minutes his hand started pushing upward the lower edge of my dress till my panty became visible. His hand freely groped my bare thigh and was trying to reach the bikini line. I placed my hand on his to prevent it from moving up. Mr. Samad growled like an angry animal and said, "That's why I insisted you drink some more."

He just brought his own glass near me and said, "The SI at the police outpost is not a nice man, what do you think?"

I didn't reply but took his glass of whiskey and somehow gulped what was left there. Mr. Samad seemed happy. His hand was so long moving most sensuously on my bare thigh and attempting to get inside my panty. But as his both the hands became free, he left my thighs and instead both his hands roughly cupped my 34 size boobs and was trying to remove the cups covering my breasts. As I tried to resist, there was a mild scuffle but he succeeded in pulling down the cups exposing my bare boobs to his view. I shut my eyes in shame. For the first time in life someone other than my hubby was fondling my bare boobs.

Suddenly I screamed as something made me shiver. I had two reasons, one, the two palms of Mr. Samad had cupped one of my boobies and was kneading it with all his strength. I felt severe pain. I always had the experience of loving caress by Chetan, who would frequently ask me even during such arousing moments if I was getting hurt. And just in contrast, I had a brutal stud that squeezed my soft melon with the barbaric passion. I couldn't stop screaming at his brutal treatment. The other reason was, I felt his lips around my other nipple, his tongue licking it greedily and he was sucking it most passionately. Intermittently, he commented, "My goodness, it's so soft and tasty. I like it."