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Willingly Broken

Chapter 1: Just Another Evening as the Maid My name is Mahalaxmi Murugan. At least that’s what it says on my Aadhaar card, Voter ID, marriage certificate, and every other document that now defines my life. I was on my knees in the grand living …

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By Jerusha

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Willingly Broken

Vol. 1

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English · Festival today

The secret of the Silk Saree

The Secret of the Silk Saree My name is Arjun Sharma, twenty-four, back in the narrow, incense-filled lanes of Varanasi after years in Bengaluru. The old haveli smelled of sandalwood and aging teak, and the distant bells from the ghats never stopped. Everything changed during Durga Puja. Uncle’s drama group was in crisis. The actress playing Durga was sick. “Beta, you’re slim, fair, perfect height,” he pleaded. Nani surprisingly supported it. “For Maa Durga. Refuse and invite misfortune.” That evening in the dimly lit storeroom, Nani and Kamla aunty took complete control. They stripped me naked. First the petticoat, knotted tightly at my waist. Then the heavy maroon Kanjeevaram silk saree—Nani’s wedding saree—was draped with expert pleats that hugged my hips and flared elegantly. They stuffed the tight blouse with soft cotton padding, hooking it so my chest swelled into full, rounded breasts that strained against the fabric. The pallu draped seductively over my shoulder. Kamla aunty shaped my eyebrows into thin, perfectly arched feminine lines with sharp tweezers, each pluck stinging and making my eyes water. “Essential for the look,” she said. Nani brought out a small gold nose stud. “Every beautiful Indian woman wears one.” I gasped as they pierced my left nostril with a sterilized needle and slid the stud in; the tiny diamond sparkled with every breath. Finally, heavy silver anklets with tiny bells were locked around my ankles. Every tiny movement made them chime softly. With the long wig, kohl-rimmed eyes, bindi, and deep red lipstick, I stood before the cracked mirror. The saree clung to my body like a second skin. My new arched eyebrows gave my face a soft, alluring femininity. The nose piercing added an exotic, sensual touch. The anklets announced every shift of my weight. I looked not like a man in disguise, but like a desirable woman—curves, grace, and hidden heat. Rehearsals transformed me. I learned the swaying walk, hips rolling gently so the silk whispered against my thighs. The anklets jingled constantly. Adjusting the slipping pallu became second nature—delicate fingers, tilted head. At home, I lingered in the clothes longer each day. One humid evening after rehearsal, the house was empty. I stayed fully dressed on the rooftop terrace, the Ganga shimmering below. The silk caressed my shaved legs, the padded blouse felt heavy and erotic on my chest. My feminine eyebrows framed my reflection in my phone; the nose stud glinted. The anklets chimed as I moved. “Arre wah… you look incredibly fuckable,” Priya whispered, stepping out of the shadows. Priya—my childhood neighbor, now a bold fashion designer from Delhi. Her eyes were dark with lust as she took in every detail: the saree, the arched brows, the nose piercing, the anklets. I tried to flee but tripped on the hem. She caught me, pressing her body against mine. “Don’t hide,” she breathed. “This is beautiful. Hot. I want you like this.” We barely made it to my locked upstairs room. Priya helped me switch to a sheer teal chiffon saree, her hands roaming as she re-draped the pleats, fingers deliberately brushing my hardening cock beneath the petticoat. She traced my shaped eyebrows, then tugged gently on my new nose stud, sending electric jolts straight to my groin. Kneeling, she kissed down my legs and refastened the anklets tighter so their chime would be louder. We kissed hungrily, tongues sliding deep. Her hands pulled my pallu aside, unhooking the blouse to expose my padded breasts. She sucked hard on my nipples, biting just enough to make me moan. The silk pooled at my waist as she yanked up the petticoat and took my throbbing cock into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the head while she stroked the shaft, one hand playing with the anklets, making them jingle wildly with every bob of her head. The nose piercing pulled deliciously as I threw my head back in pleasure. I needed her. I pushed her onto the bed, hiking her kurti up and peeling off her panties. Her pussy was already soaked. Still in the saree, I buried my face between her thighs, licking and sucking her clit while my anklets chimed with every movement. Priya gripped my wig, moaning “Arjuni… fuck, your tongue feels so good.” She came hard on my face, thighs trembling. Then she straddled me, guiding my cock into her tight, wet cunt. The chiffon saree rustled loudly as she sank down, taking every inch. She rode me hard, grinding her clit against me, her breasts bouncing while she tugged on my nose stud and pinched my nipples through the blouse. The anklets rang with each thrust upward I made. “Look at you,” she gasped, “so pretty, so hard inside me.” We switched positions. I took her from behind, bunching the saree around my hips, the petticoat still tied. I slammed into her dripping pussy, the silk rubbing against her ass with every deep stroke. Priya pushed back, moaning loudly as I reached around to rub her clit. The constant chime of anklets, the pull of the nose piercing, my arched feminine eyebrows furrowed in ecstasy—it all built unbearably. She clenched around my cock, screaming as she orgasmed again. I followed, thrusting deep and filling her with thick ropes of cum, groaning into her neck while the silk stuck to our sweaty bodies. We didn’t stop there. Later that night, after a quick cleanup, Priya made me wear the original maroon Kanjeevaram again. This time she used her fingers and tongue on me while I was fully dressed, edging me until I begged. She rode me reverse, facing away so I could watch the saree pleats bunch and the anklets dance as she fucked herself on my cock. I came twice more—once in her mouth, swallowing every drop while looking up at my made-up face in the mirror, and finally deep inside her again as she whispered filthy praises about how perfect my feminine form looked taking her. After that night, the sarees came out almost every chance we got. Secret evenings turned into ritual: me fully transformed—arched brows, glittering nose piercing, jingling anklets—Priya exploring every explicit desire. Nani left new bangles one morning with a note: “Many forms. Be happy.” In Varanasi’s ancient embrace, wrapped in six yards of silk, marked by gold in my nose and bells at my feet, I discovered raw pleasure, acceptance, and a deeper self—fucked and loved exactly as I was.

Apsara

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Telugu · Mother yesterday

సిగ్గేస్తోందే.... అమ్మా... సిగ్గేస్తోందే

సిగ్గేస్తోందే... అమ్మా... సిగ్గేస్తోంది ఏ (గేయ రూపంలో ఒక తల్లీ బిడ్డల సంభాషణ) బిడ్డ - సిగ్గెస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే నాతోపాటు చదువుకున్న నిన్న టేళ ఆడుకున్న నేస్తాలను చూత్తావుంటే వాళ్ళ చేయి తగులు తుంటే సిగ్గెస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే ఆళ్ళకేమో మీసాలొచ్చె మీసంతో మగసిరొచ్చె నాకేమో సిగ్గు హెచ్చె అక్క సోకు నాకు నచ్చె సిగ్గెస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే పక్కింటి పద్మ కట్టే ఫ్రాకులంటె ఇష్టమాయె ఎదురింటి మీనాక్షి పరికిణి పై మోజు లాయె సిగ్గెస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే చేతినిండా గాజులతో మనసులోన మోజులతో నుదుటన తిలకం పెట్టుక కళ్ళకు కాటుక పెట్టుక సిగ్గేస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే పొడవాటి జడకట్టి తలలోన మల్లెలెట్టి తిరగాలనిపిస్తుందే నవ్వాలనిపిస్తుందే నా తప్పు ఏమిటమ్మా నాన్నెందుకు నన్ను కొట్టె ఆడొ మగ తెలియని పుట్టుక నా తప్పా అమ్మా... చీరకట్టుకుంటేనూ ఒక శిక్షా అమ్మ సిగ్గెస్తోందే నాకు సిగ్గేస్తోందే సిగ్గేస్తోందే అమ్మా సిగ్గేస్తోందే తల్లి - తప్పుకాదురా బాబు నీ తప్పుకాదురా బాబు మిగతా పిల్లలు లాగా లేవని నాన్నకు కోపం బాబు తను చేయాల్సిన దేదో తెలియక నిన్ను కొట్టాడు బాబు నా పెంపకాన్నే తప్పుపట్టి ప్రశ్నిత్తాడు రా బాబు బిడ్డ - బాబూ అనకే అమ్మా. ఏడుపొత్తోంది అమ్మా అక్క లాగ నను ఒసేవనవే ఇంటిపనులను చేత్తానమ్మా ఉహు ఉహూ ఉహూఊఊఊ తల్లి - కూతురు గా నిను ఒప్పుకుంటేను లోకం నవ్వేను బిడ్డా గౌనో పరికిణి ఇద్దామంటే నాన్నకు భయమేబిడ్డా. ఉహు ఉహూ ఉహూఊఊఊ బిడ్డ - ఏడుపొత్తోంది అమ్మా గట్టిఏడుపొత్తోంది అమ్మా గట్టిగ ఏడుపొత్తోంది అమ్మా గట్టిగ ఏడుపొత్తోంది అమ్మా ఉహు ఉహూ ఉహూఊఊఊ