She froze.
"You're my perfect little whore. My sister. My concubine. You are my fucktoy, Tanya."
Her eyes widened.
"You kneel not before classmates. Not boys with dreams. But before a man who owns your
body, your cunt, your mind."
His voice deepened, darker now.
"Let him cry. Let him run. He never deserved to look at you."
Tanya moaned softly, her thighs brushing together.
Rai kissed her.
Not gently.
He claimed her mouth like he claimed her body—tongue deep, hands possessive, cock swelling again as his other hand slid between her legs.
"You were wet for me before we even arrived. You sucked me off while I drove. You begged me to fuck you here."
He turned her and pressed her back to the desk again.
"You're not here to be saved, Tanya."
He entered her again.
Squelch.
"You're here to be worshipped."
PAH. PAH. PAH.
She sobbed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he began thrusting into her once more.
Her tears melted into moans, each thrust fucking away whatever was left of her former self.
"Yes… yes—Master—make me forget—make me yours again—"
"You were never anything else."
Sheila watched from the desk, fingers between her thighs as she slowly played with herself, mesmerized by their bond.
Tanya's orgasm hit hard—her whole body locking around him, convulsing as she cried out his name into his neck.
And this time, when Rai came inside her again, flooding her womb with a fresh load, she smiled.
Not with shame.
Not with pain.
But with pride.
She wasn't Suraj's crush.
She wasn't anyone's girl.
She was his.
Forever.
The silence inside Room A3 lingered like aftershock—humid, thick, and humming with the scent of sweat, sex, and surrender.
Tanya lay against Rai's chest, her body still trembling gently from the overwhelming orgasm that had melted her tears into moans.
Her lips, red and swollen from both kisses and whimpers, curved now into a faint smile.
Sheila, lounging nude on the desk, watched them with a look of contented heat, her fingers still lightly brushing her own thigh, glistening with her arousal.
Her breasts rose and fell slowly as she breathed in the scent of what she'd always belonged to.
Rai exhaled deeply, brushing Tanya's hair from her cheek.
"No more tears," he murmured, voice low and calm now, like thunder fading into a distant sky.
Tanya nodded softly against his chest. "Yes, Master…"
"Let's make them remember this farewell," he added, kissing her temple.
With the slow grace of divine creatures returning from a dark ritual, the three of them began to redress.
Tanya slid her torn panties into Rai's pocket with a blush, her legs still shaky but her gaze calm and bright with purpose.
She adjusted her deep-blue dress, letting her hair fall back over her shoulders.
Sheila took a little longer. She stretched languidly, her bare curves catching the soft light through the high window, before slipping her dress back on without underwear. Her nipples pressed against the tight satin, defiant and visible.
Rai fastened the top buttons of his black shirt, smoothing back his raven hair. He looked flawless.
No one would guess the things he had just done. Except for the faint scratch marks on his neck. And the lingering smugness in his blood-red gaze.
The classroom door opened.
The corridor beyond was quiet, save for faint music echoing from the main ballroom.
Hand in hand, Rai led them out.
Tanya on his left. Sheila on his right.
They walked with slow, sure steps—like they owned the building. And in many ways, they did. There was no shame in their stride.
Only heat, pride, and an air of conquest that followed them like perfume.
As they reentered the grand hallway, the bright chandeliers above the farewell hall cast soft light over their glowing skin.
Several students turned.
A teacher's eyes lingered on Rai's frame before quickly darting away.
A girl who had once gossiped about Tanya now stared in silent awe, unable to explain the aura of worship and possession that radiated from her.
Tanya smiled softly to herself.
No one would ever see her as "School's crush" again.
Because now… she was Rai's woman.
Sheila leaned into his side and whispered, "Maybe next year, they'll host the farewell in our honor."
Rai chuckled.
"Only if they're brave enough to handle the truth."
Together, they entered the ballroom again.
The warm light of the ballroom spilled like champagne over the polished floors, shimmering across golden tablecloths, clinking glasses, and the glittering gowns of graduating girls.
The air buzzed with laughter, music, and the final echoes of farewell speeches.
But when Rai, Tanya, and Sheila stepped into the hall, everything slowed.
Conversations faltered.
Eyes turned.
Something about the way they moved—deliberate, regal, glowing—sliced through the festivities like a hot blade.
Tanya walked beside her brother, arm loosely hooked around his. Her legs still quivered under her dress, though her smile was quiet and composed. She radiated devotion, no longer the shy girl in the back row—but a woman claimed.
On Rai's other side, Sheila clung with boldness, her dress hugging her curves tightly.
She looked wild. Used. Perfect. Her hair was tousled in just the right way—like she'd come straight from a bed she didn't regret.
And then Rai stopped.
Right there in the center of the ballroom, under the chandeliers, where students posed with certificates and teachers beamed with pride.
He turned to Sheila.
She barely had time to draw in a breath.
He grabbed her waist, pulled her close.
And kissed her.
Not a polite kiss.
Not a farewell peck.
But a deep, carnal, possessive kiss—a kiss that left no room for misinterpretation.
His tongue claimed hers. His hand pressed firmly to the small of her back, arching her into him. Her body melted against his, fingers curling into his collar as she whimpered softly into his mouth.
Gasps erupted around the room.
A glass shattered somewhere.
Someone coughed.
No one looked away.
When Rai finally pulled back, Sheila was panting, dazed, her lips red and glistening.
He smirked. "Good girl."
She whispered, "Thank you, Master."
And just like that, he turned.
Still holding Tanya's hand, Rai walked through the stunned silence, each step echoing louder than applause. He didn't rush. He didn't look back.
And not a single soul dared to stop him.
Outside, the sun had begun to set—casting the Lamborghini Aventador in golden fire.
He opened the door for Tanya, watched her slide in with obedient elegance, and then settled behind the wheel.
The engine roared to life.
As they pulled away from the school one final time, Rai didn't glance at the fading building in the rearview mirror.
He didn't need to.
The memory of that kiss—of Sheila moaning against his lips, of a hundred stunned stares—was carved into the bones of that farewell forever.
They would talk.
They would wonder.
But only he and his women would know.
And as Tanya reached over and rested her hand on his thigh, whispering, "Take me home, Master," Rai smirked.
The party was over.
But the reign had just begun.
By the time Rai and Tanya returned to the villa, the sun had already dipped below the Mumbai skyline.
The grand gates opened soundlessly, and the Lamborghini purred as it glided into the private courtyard.
Tanya sat in the passenger seat, cheeks still flushed, her body still tingling from the raw dominance she had received at school. S
he looked over at her master—her brother—and felt a surge of worship well in her chest. No one in that school would forget who she belonged to now.
Inside the villa, the lights were low, the hall scented with jasmine and the soft flicker of candles.
Rai took Tanya's hand, not gently, but possessively, and led her directly to the master bedroom.
There was no need for words. Her body ached for him. Her soul craved his presence. As they stepped inside the room, the tension was already building—quiet, hungry, and absolute.
Tanya slipped out of her dress, revealing the bruises on her hips, the faint traces of earlier bites. She wore them like jewelry.
Rai removed his jacket and shirt, his muscles taut and glistening from the day's exertion. The moment he turned to her, their eyes met—and the heat returned like a crashing wave.
Just as he reached for her, there was a soft knock at the chamber door.
It opened.
Twinkle stepped inside.
She looked elegant—submissively so—dressed in a pale saree, her hair braided, the choker around her throat gleaming beneath her collarbone.
But her eyes weren't uncertain like before. They were calm. Steady.
She held a small silk pouch in her hand.
She bowed her head, walked across the room, and knelt before Rai, offering the pouch with both hands.
Inside: a few strands of Akshay's hair.
"I brought what you asked for, Master," she said softly, her voice carrying pride rather than hesitation.
Rai took the pouch, weighing it briefly in his hand. His crimson gaze lingered on her face—her cheeks slightly pink, her breath controlled but eager.
"You've done well," he said. "Very well."
Twinkle looked up at him, her eyes glowing with the need to be used, to be owned again.
Rai placed the pouch aside—he would hex Akshay in time.
But now?
Now his women were here.
His property.
Tanya, flushed and obedient, standing with legs slightly apart, waiting for her next command.
Twinkle, kneeling, breath shallow, already damp with anticipation.
He stepped toward them, and both looked up at him like priestesses awaiting ritual.
He smiled faintly, dominance radiating from every muscle.
"Tonight," he said, "you both remind yourselves who you belong to."
And the door closed behind him.
Silence settled over the room like the calm before a storm.
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows over silk sheets and polished floors, wrapping the air in quiet anticipation.
Tanya stood closest to the bed, chest rising slowly as her eyes followed him with reverence.
Her cheeks were still stained with the blush of the school encounter, but there was no hesitation in her stance now.
Her body, already bared, wore the faint marks of his previous possession—bruises, bites, soft reminders of who had broken her, and who would break her again.
Twinkle remained near the door where she had entered, still kneeling, the silk sari pooled around her waist, the thin choker at her throat gleaming in the low light.
The soft silk pouch containing Akshay's hair had been set aside—the symbol of another man's ruin, left forgotten at the foot of her master's bed.
Rai stepped forward slowly, each step deliberate. He said nothing. He didn't need to.
His presence alone commanded.
With a simple flick of his wrist, he gestured toward Tanya.
"Come."
She moved without a word, eyes wide, lips parted. Her bare feet padded softly across the carpet until she stood before him.
Rai reached out, his hand cupping her chin, thumb brushing over her lower lip.
Then turned to Twinkle.
Her breath caught. She crawled across the room on her knees, eyes lowered, her heartbeat thundering in her chest.
She didn't stop until she was pressed against his leg, her face nuzzling his thigh, her voice soft and trembling.
"Please… let me prove it."
He placed a hand on her head.
"You both will."
He moved to the bed and sat down slowly, the mattress dipping under his weight. He spread his legs slightly, leaning back against the velvet cushions, exhaling as if he were sitting on a throne carved for him by their worship.
With one finger, he pointed to the cock between his legs.
Tanya moved first.
She climbed onto the bed with grace and familiarity, her body responding to his scent before her mind caught up.
Her fingers gently curled around the base of his cock, already semi-hard from their tension, and her tongue flicked out to kiss the tip reverently.
Twinkle followed, kneeling beside her, her movements slightly more hesitant—less from resistance, more from awe.
Side by side, they lowered their mouths together.
Slrp.
Glk.
Slrrrp.
Rai exhaled through his nose, his fingers threading through their hair.
He guided their rhythm as they worked in sync—Tanya licking up the length while Twinkle suckled on the head, their moans vibrating softly as their tongues crossed paths again and again.
Their devotion was palpable.
And Rai? He watched with calm satisfaction, every nerve fed by the sight of two women—one proud school queen bee and his sister, the other, once a star, wife of another superstar—now reduced to soft, eager mouths, not for pleasure alone but for purpose.
Tanya pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing against his shaft.
"May I ride you, Brother?"
Rai looked down at her, a subtle grin forming.
"You may… but not to finish. Only to please."
She nodded instantly, moving over him, her soaked warmth aligning with his cock as she lowered herself inch by inch, her breath catching with every stretch.
Twinkle remained below, kissing his thighs, licking his balls as Tanya slowly impaled herself.
Squelch.
"Ahhh—Master—yes—yes, I missed this—"
Rai gripped her hips, guiding her movements.
Up. Down. Harder.
Twinkle pressed her lips to Tanya's clit every time she bounced—turning her ride into worship of both Master and sister-slut.
The air thickened with moans, heat, and obedience.
They belonged to him.
Every breath.
Every thrust.
Every drop.
And the night was just beginning.
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