Trouble

They came back the first time just after nine.

The lock turned and thin gray light pushed around the curtains. Neeharika sat on the edge of the bed in the wrinkled green frock from dinner, eyes swollen, voice already hoarse from crying over the videos all night. She had watched every file and still refused. I sat on the sofa, hands clenched, listening to her say no over and over in the dark.

Deepak entered first. Gangadhar followed with the bag and the camera already mounted on the tripod. The red light was off. She stood at once, voice thin but clear.

“No. I won’t do it. I’m not yours. I won’t bring my sister. Let me go. I don’t agree to any of this. Please just stop and let me leave.”

Deepak set the tripod at the foot of the bed and switched the camera on. The red light blinked steady. Gangadhar crossed the room, caught her wrist, and pulled her forward. She twisted hard, free hand pushing at his chest.

“Don’t touch me. I said no. Let go. Please—don’t do this. It will hurt. I’m begging you to stop.”

He spun her and bent her over the foot of the bed, forearm heavy across her lower back. She pushed at the sheets, fingers slipping. “Stop. I’m not staying like this. Untie me. I don’t agree. Please—Gangadhar—don’t. I’m scared. It already hurts just thinking about it.”

He tied her wrists tight in front of her anyway, the rope biting. He shoved the green frock up to her ribs, the fabric bunching under her breasts, then ripped the panties down her thighs. She made a sharp, wounded sound. He forced her ankles wide and lashed them to the bedposts until the stretch pulled hard. She stood bent, completely open to the lens—cunt and ass exposed. Tears started, but her voice stayed steady.

“I said no. This doesn’t change anything. I’m not yours. Let me go. Please stop before you start. I’m begging you. It will hurt too much. I don’t want this.”

Gangadhar stripped. His cock was hard. He stepped behind her and pressed the head against her ass with nothing to ease the way. She tensed hard, thighs shaking. “No. Not there. Stop. Please—don’t. I’m not ready. It will tear. Mercy. Use anything else. I don’t agree. Please pull back.”

He pushed. The head forced its way in on a wet, dragging burn. She screamed, high and raw, the sound sharp in the room.

“Stop—please stop—it hurts—oh god it hurts—but I still don’t agree—get off me—please—Gangadhar—I’m begging—pull out—it burns—mercy—”

He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and drove in to the root. She convulsed, a long broken wail tearing out of her. Deepak stepped in front of her, caught her jaw, and tried to kiss her. She turned her face away as far as she could. “Don’t. I said no. Don’t kiss me.” He held her still and forced the kiss anyway, tongue pushing past her lips while Gangadhar started fucking her ass in long, brutal strokes that slammed the bed against the wall. Each thrust dragged a fresh cry out of her.

He pulled back from the kiss. Spit strung between them. “Open your mouth.”

“No.”

He shoved his cock between her lips anyway. She gagged at once, throat clicking. He fucked her mouth in short, hard strokes timed to Gangadhar’s behind her. Spit poured down her chin. Tears streamed. She made muffled sounds of refusal, shaking her head as much as his grip allowed, the word “no” vibrating around him whenever she could force it.

Gangadhar reached under and pinched her clit hard, twisting. She bucked and screamed around Deepak’s cock. “No—please—not that—it hurts—stop—I don’t agree—” He did it again and again, sharp and mean, until she was shaking and clenching helplessly. Deepak pulled out long enough for her to gasp “No—I still say no—please stop,” then pushed back in and held her nose until her face darkened and she thrashed.

They switched. Gangadhar dragged her up by the hair. She sobbed. “Don’t—please—my hair—stop—” He forced a kiss, teeth on her lip, then shoved his cock into her mouth. She choked and retched. “I’ll— no— I don’t want— please not so deep—” He held her head and used her throat while Deepak moved behind her, slammed into her cunt, and started fucking her hard. One hand reached around and slapped her clit. She jolted, a muffled cry forced out.

“Louder,” Deepak said. “Tell the camera no if that’s what you want.”

Gangadhar pulled out for a second. The words came cracked and desperate. “No. I don’t agree. Stop. It hurts so much. Please stop. I won’t bring my sister. I won’t be yours. Let me go. Mercy—please—slow down—I’m begging because it hurts—but I still say no.”

They flipped her onto her back. Ankles still tied wide. She kept saying it, voice hoarse. “No. Don’t spread me. I don’t want this. Please stop. I don’t agree.” Deepak shoved into her cunt. Gangadhar knelt over her face, forced another kiss she tried to refuse, then fed her his cock, hand tight on her throat. Her eyes bulged. “Can’t— no— stop—” On her side, one leg yanked high, Deepak in her ass, Gangadhar’s fingers twisting inside her cunt. “Too much—please—only stop—I said no—” Then both at once. She went rigid, then screamed. “Not both—please—it hurts— I don’t agree—stop—mercy—”

They kept going. Doggy again, hard and deep, her body jolting with every thrust while she cried and repeated “No—stop—please—it hurts—I don’t agree.” Blowjob until she retched; they made her face the camera while she coughed and still whispered “No.” Kissing she turned from every time they tried. She begged constantly because of the pain—“Please stop, it burns, it tears, mercy, I can’t take more”—but never once said she would submit or that she agreed. The red light caught every refusal, every tear, every broken plea.

Gangadhar finished down her throat and held her until she swallowed, coughing. Deepak pulled out and came across her cunt and stomach. She lay tied and shaking, blood and fluids on her skin, whispering through tears, voice nearly gone: “No… I don’t agree… please stop… let me go… it hurts… no…”

Deepak left the camera running a moment longer, then switched it off. “We’ll be back.”