Turning my friend's wife into a whore

Rahul had always noticed Nivedita at gatherings with his buddy Arjun, her husband. She was a petite woman in her late twenties, with long black hair cascading down her back, full lips that curved into shy smiles, and curves that her modest sarees couldn't fully hide—pert C-cup breasts, a narrow waist flaring into wide hips, and an ass that jiggled just right when she walked. Arjun was oblivious, buried in his work, leaving her lonely. Rahul, single and predatory, saw his chance one evening at a house party.

The drinks flowed, and Rahul cornered her in the kitchen while Arjun chatted outside. 'You look tense, Nivedita,' he murmured, his hand brushing her arm. She flushed but didn't pull away. By midnight, as the party thinned, he drove her home—Arjun had passed out early. In the car, his fingers traced her thigh under her skirt. 'I've wanted this for months,' he whispered. She hesitated, then parted her legs slightly. He pulled over in a dark alley, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his thick cock, already hard and veined. 'Suck it,' he ordered. Trembling, she leaned over, her warm mouth enveloping his shaft. He gripped her hair, thrusting into her throat until she gagged, tears smearing her mascara. He slapped her cheek hard, the sharp crack making her jolt, her skin blooming red. 'Deeper, you worthless bitch.' She whimpered but took more, and he came hard, flooding her mouth with hot cum, making her swallow every drop. 'Good slut,' he growled. That night marked the start.

Their affair ignited. Rahul snuck into her house when Arjun was away on business trips. The first full fuck happened in her marital bed. He stripped her roughly, ripping off her blouse to expose her lacy bra, then yanked down her panties to reveal her shaved pussy, already glistening. 'You're soaked for your husband's friend, aren't you? Filthy bitch.' He slapped her face sharply, the impact snapping her head to the side, then her ass hard, leaving red welts, before pinning her down and slamming his cock into her tight cunt. She moaned, legs wrapping around him as he pounded her relentlessly, his balls slapping against her. 'Take it, you cheating whore,' he grunted, pinching her nipples until she cried out, then slapping her tits with open palms, making them jiggle and sting. He flipped her onto all fours, reaming her from behind, his fingers digging into her hips. When he pulled out, he shoved into her mouth again, face-fucking her until ropes of cum painted her tongue. She collapsed, spent, but he wasn't done—fingering her to a squirting orgasm while calling her a 'desperate cum dumpster,' and slapping her pussy lips hard to heighten the sensation, followed by another hard slap across her face that left her cheek throbbing.

A week later, during another rendezvous, Rahul pulled out a joint. 'Try this, it'll loosen you up even more.' Nivedita eyed it warily but, high on lust after he'd eaten her pussy until she bucked against his face, took a drag. The weed hit her fast, making her giggly and bold. She straddled him on the couch, grinding her wet slit along his cock before sinking down, riding him with abandon. 'Fuck, this feels amazing,' she gasped, her tits bouncing as she impaled herself. Rahul thrust up, matching her rhythm, his hands mauling her breasts and delivering sharp slaps to her thighs. 'Yeah, smoke more, you pothead slut. This is just the beginning.' He came inside her, filling her pussy with his seed, and she clenched around him, orgasming with a shudder. From then on, every meetup started with weed—her blowing clouds while he fingered her, or passing the joint mid-fuck as he bent her over the kitchen counter, his cock stretching her asshole for the first time. 'Relax, you tight-assed bitch,' he snarled, lubing up with her own juices before burying deep, slapping her cheeks repeatedly until they burned crimson. She screamed in pain-pleasure, the high dulling the edge as he rutted into her bowels, pulling out to cum on her back. Afterward, he grabbed her chin roughly and slapped her face twice, hard enough to make her ears ring, whispering, 'That's for screaming without permission, you noisy cunt.'

Rahul escalated quickly. Alcohol came next—bottles of whiskey shared in secret, her inhibitions crumbling as she got drunk and sloppy. One night, buzzed on booze and weed, she begged for it. 'Please, Rahul, fuck me hard.' He laughed, pouring shots down her throat until she was slurring. Then he tied her wrists with her dupatta, spreading her legs wide. 'Look at you, drunk and dripping. Arjun's little wife is my piss-poor drunk now.' He rammed into her pussy, the wet slaps echoing as he degraded her, slapping her face with each thrust, the blows landing with stinging force. 'You're nothing but a hole for cock.' She came twice, her body convulsing, but he kept going, flipping her and ass-fucking her until she sobbed. To push further, he introduced cocaine. 'This'll make you fly, baby.' He dusted a line on the nightstand, and she bent over, snorting it eagerly through a rolled bill, the powder burning her nostrils as the rush exploded through her veins. Her eyes widened as the energy surged; she attacked him, sucking his cock like a vacuum, deepthroating until her nose pressed his pubes. 'That's it, coke whore,' he mocked, filming discreetly on his phone as she bobbed, then slapped her across the face hard enough to leave a handprint, the crack echoing. He bent her over, snorting a line off her ass cheek before plunging into her sopping cunt. The drugs amplified everything—her screams louder, her orgasms explosive as he hammered her, calling her a 'filthy addict slut' while slapping her ass raw. Cum leaked from her pussy when he finished, but she was hooked, craving the high and the humiliation. Later that same night, he made her snort another line off his thigh while she knelt, then face-fucked her again, interspersing thrusts with brutal slaps to her cheeks that made her vision blur.

The addiction took hold fast. Nivedita started sneaking out more, downing vodka straight from the bottle Rahul supplied, her hands shaking for the next line. Sex became ritualistic: She'd arrive disheveled, already tipsy, and he'd make her snort coke off his cock before fucking her raw—her nose pressed to his skin as she inhaled the powder, the bitter taste lingering as she sucked him deep. One session, he had her on her knees in the bathroom, lines dusted on the sink. 'Snort it, junkie bitch, then eat my ass.' High and compliant, she inhaled deeply, the rush hitting like lightning, then rimmed him eagerly, tongue probing his hole while he jerked off. He turned, shoving his cock down her throat, skull-fucking until she puked a little—but he didn't stop, cumming in her mouth and making her lick it clean. 'Swallow your mess, you disgusting pig.' Her pussy throbbed untouched, so he finger-banged her roughly, three digits stretching her while she begged, slapping her clit hard between pumps, then delivering a series of hard face slaps that left her dizzy and aroused. Later, drunk on rum, she rode him reverse cowgirl, her ass cheeks spreading as she bounced, the cocaine making her grind wildly. 'I'm your addict now,' she whimpered. 'Damn right, you worthless drunk whore,' he replied, spanking her until her skin burned red, then filling her ass with cum. In a twisted peak, he stood over her as she knelt, pissing a hot stream into her open mouth. 'Drink it, you filthy urinal slut. Every drop.' She gulped it down, choking on the acrid taste, her body trembling from the degradation as he slapped her wet face hard, the water splashing with each impact.

Another binge-fueled night, Rahul laid out a mirror on the bed, piling small mounds of coke for her. 'Snort as much as you want, but earn it.' She leaned in, doing line after line, her nose raw from the constant snorting, the high making her skin tingle and her pussy clench. Eager, she spread her legs and masturbated furiously, fingers plunging in and out while he watched, then slapped her face repeatedly—left, right, left—each hard strike making her gasp and rub harder. 'You love being my coke-sniffing slap toy, don't you?' He joined in, fucking her hand while she snorted more, the powder dusting her lips as she came shaking.

Rahul had been collecting evidence all along—hidden camera nudes of her posing spread-eagled, videos of her snorting coke while masturbating with a bottle, and clips of their dirtiest fucks, including her swallowing his piss. Her transformation was complete: eyes hollow from binges, body marked with hickeys, bruises, and slap marks, always reeking of booze and smoke. When Arjun grew suspicious of her late nights, Rahul struck. He texted her the files: 'Tell Arjun, or do what I say. You're my property now.' Panic set in; she met him at a seedy motel, trembling. 'Please, delete them.' He smirked, locking the door. 'Strip, whore. And snort this.' He arranged lines on the dresser, and she dropped her clothes, kneeling to snort them one by one, the rush calming her nerves into desperate lust. Her nipples hardened from the high. He pushed her onto the bed, tying her ankles to the posts, exposing her shaved pussy and ass. 'Time to earn your freedom—or more addiction.' He fucked her mouth first, gagging her with his thick shaft, drool spilling down her chin, slapping her cheeks rhythmically with his free hand, the hard smacks punctuating her gurgles. 'Choke on it, blackmail bitch. Your husband's gonna see what a cum-guzzling slut you are if you disobey.' Tears streamed as he pulled out, only to slap his cock across her face before ramming into her cunt. He pounded mercilessly, the bed creaking, her bound body jolting, interspersing thrusts with hard slaps to her tits and thighs, then grabbing her jaw to deliver a vicious face slap that made her lip swell. 'Scream for me, you pathetic junkie. Beg for my cum like the whore you are.' She did, orgasming shamefully as he degraded her, then he pulled out and pissed directly into her mouth, forcing her to drink while he slapped her piss-soaked breasts. 'Guzzle it down, you nasty piss drinker.' Before leaving her tied, he dusted more coke on her belly and made her snort it off herself, slapping her face one last time as she inhaled.

Blackmail turned her into his plaything. He made her whore out—first to his friends. 'Bring the cash, or these go to Arjun.' At a dingy apartment, she arrived drunk, coke-fueled, in a skimpy dress that barely covered her thighs, her makeup smeared from pre-snorting in the cab— she'd done a quick line in the backseat, the high buzzing as she walked in. Three guys waited—burly, leering men Rahul had rounded up—plus Rahul watching from a chair, phone in hand. 'Service them, slut. Make it worth their money.' She dropped to her knees in the center of the room, the carpet rough against her skin, heart pounding from the drugs and fear. The first man unzipped, his thick, unwashed cock springing out, and grabbed her hair, shoving it past her lips. She sucked greedily, tongue swirling around the head as he thrust deep, gagging her. 'Suck harder, you cheap hooker,' he growled, slapping her face hard, the sting making her eyes water. Rahul laughed, 'That's right, treat her like the trash she is.' The second man joined, pulling out his veined shaft and rubbing it against her cheek while she blew the first. She alternated, mouth stretching around one girth then the other, saliva dripping down her chin onto her heaving chest. Hands groped her everywhere—pinching nipples through her dress, yanking it down to expose her bare tits, slapping them until they reddened. Midway, Rahul tossed a small bag of coke to the group. 'Get her higher—make her snort off your cocks.' She pulled off, snorting lines dusted on the first man's shaft, the powder mixing with her spit as she inhaled, then resumed sucking with renewed frenzy. The slaps continued, hard across her face from all sides, her cheeks burning as the high peaked.

They stripped her fully, tossing the dress aside, leaving her naked and vulnerable on all fours. 'Crawl to the next one, bitch,' Rahul commanded, kicking her ass lightly to start her moving. She crawled across the floor, ass high, pussy exposed and dripping from the coke rush. The third man lay back on the couch, cock standing rigid. 'Ride it, whore.' She mounted him, sinking her wet cunt onto his length, gasping as it filled her. She bounced slowly at first, then faster, her breasts jiggling with each drop. He slapped her ass cheeks hard, alternating sides, leaving handprints that burned. 'Faster, you lazy slut—earn that fix.' The first man positioned behind her, spitting on her asshole before pushing in, double-penetrating her tight holes. She cried out, the stretch painful yet electrifying, bodies slapping together in a frenzy. 'Feel those cocks ruining you? You're just a set of fuckholes now,' the second man taunted, shoving his dick into her mouth to complete the airtight seal. She moaned around it, throat bulging as he face-fucked her, balls smacking her chin, his hand cracking hard against her face between thrusts. Rahul filmed every angle—the way her body rocked between them, sweat and juices mixing, her muffled gags and whimpers.

They rotated positions relentlessly. One scene had her bent over the coffee table, legs spread wide, as the first man hammered her pussy from behind, his hips crashing into her with bruising force, slapping her ass until it was purple. 'Take it deep, you married cumrag—your hubby's cock never hit like this.' The second knelt in front, forcing her to suck while pinching her clit. Cum erupted first in her mouth; she swallowed the salty load, only for the third to pull out of her ass and piss a warm stream over her back, the liquid trickling down her crack. 'Open up, piss slut,' he ordered, aiming into her mouth as she turned. She drank what she could, the bitter fluid spilling over her lips, humiliating her further as they laughed. Rahul stepped in then, making her snort a line off the table before joining the fray— she bent low, snorting greedily, the rush making her beg for more. He took her ass while another filled her pussy, their shafts rubbing through the thin wall, stretching her to the limit. 'Scream, you degraded whore—beg for more cocks.' She did, voice hoarse, orgasming in waves as slaps rained on her body—face, tits, thighs, everywhere, the hard face slaps from Rahul leaving her dazed. The men unloaded one by one: hot spurts in her cunt, ass, and down her throat, then painting her face and hair with the rest. She lay there, a sticky, bruised mess, forced to lick cum from the floor while they pissed on her in turns, making her lap up puddles like a dog. 'Drink every drop, you filthy toilet. This is your life now.' The session lasted hours, her body used in every degrading way—triple penetration attempts, forced rimming of their asses, even holding a beer bottle in her pussy while sucking off the group and snorting coke off their balls. By the end, she was sobbing, covered in fluids, but the drugs kept her craving the next degradation. Rahul pocketed the cash, whispering, 'Good job, my personal whore. More tomorrow.' As a final act, he made her snort one last line off his palm while slapping her face hard, the powder flying slightly with each blow.

It escalated. Rahul pimped her regularly—gangbangs in back alleys, blowjobs for dealers to score free coke. One night, wasted on whiskey and lines, she serviced five men in a warehouse, the air thick with sweat and smoke. She'd snorted two lines in the car ride over, her nose itching as the high settled in. Stripped naked upon arrival, a leather collar snapped around her neck with a leash Rahul yanked. 'On your hands and knees, animal.' She crawled through the dim space, the cold concrete scraping her knees, as the men circled like wolves. The first two grabbed her arms, pulling her up to sandwich her between them—one sliding into her pussy from behind, the other thrusting into her mouth. 'Suck it clean, you streetwalker scum,' the front man barked, slapping her tits hard enough to make her yelp around his shaft, then cracking his palm across her face with brutal force. The rhythm built, bodies slamming into her, her holes filled and stretched. Another man joined, forcing his cock into her hand to jerk while slapping her ass in time with the fucks. 'Jerk faster, lazy bitch— or no coke for you.' Rahul passed around a vial, and soon she was snorting lines off the floor where they'd dusted them, her face pressed down as she inhaled, the men laughing and slapping her cheeks hard while she did it.

They laid her on a dirty mattress in the corner, spreading her eagle. One straddled her chest, tit-fucking her bruised breasts, pinching nipples until she screamed, while another ate her out roughly, biting her clit. 'Taste that sloppy cunt,' he mocked to the group. Then the real onslaught: a train of men taking turns in her pussy and ass, each pounding for minutes before switching, slaps echoing off the walls—her face reddened from open-hand strikes, ass welted, even her pussy lips slapped swollen. 'You're leaking like a faucet, you overused slut.' Midway, high on the coke Rahul dusted on her belly—she'd snorted it right off her own skin, the powder sticking to her sweat—she begged for it, 'More... fuck me harder.' They obliged, DPing her savagely, cocks pistoning in unison, making her squirt across the mattress. Verbal torrent followed: 'Pathetic piss-drinking whore,' 'Arjun's ruined wife,' 'Cum-bathed addict.' One guy paused to make her snort a fat line off his cock before resuming, the high crashing over her as he slapped her face repeatedly, each hard blow syncing with his thrusts.

The finale was pure humiliation. They formed a circle around her kneeling form, jerking off as she crawled between them, sucking each in turn—deep, sloppy blowjobs with gagging and drool. Cum shot across her face first, then they pissed in unison, golden streams hitting her mouth, hair, and body. 'Drink it all, you human urinal—swallow like the junkie pig you are.' She opened wide, gulping streams from multiple sources, the taste overwhelming as it mixed with semen, spilling down her chin onto her tits. Slaps punctuated the deluge, hands cracking against her soaked skin, hard face slaps that made her head snap. One man shoved her face into a puddle on the floor, grinding it in while she lapped desperately. Rahul watched, filming, then took her last—fucking her piss-wet pussy on the ground, slapping her until she came brokenly, including a barrage of face slaps that left her cheeks raw and swollen. 'You're nothing now, just a whore for rent.'

In a private session later that week, Rahul had her alone in his apartment, lines arranged on a glass tray. 'Snort them all, then I'll fuck you senseless.' She did, line after line, her head buzzing as she finished the pile, nose bleeding slightly from the abuse. He rewarded her by bending her over the couch, slamming into her ass while slapping her face from behind, reaching around to deliver hard, stinging blows that made her cry out with each thrust. 'You live for this, don't you, my coke-addled slap slut?'

Nivedita was broken, addicted to the cycle—drugs, alcohol, and the humiliating sex that came with them. Rahul owned her completely, her marriage a facade as she snuck away for her next fix and fuck. 'You're mine forever, you disgusting slut,' he'd whisper, thrusting deep one last time, sealing her fate.