Ramya: my arranged marriage wet dream

They didn't use condoms. That changes things for me. I won't go into details, but I have to take a detour on the way home and do some awkward explaining to a health care provider to get the kit I need. Pregnancy and STDs averted with relatively high confidence.

A long, hot shower helps. My face is battered and bruised, and I just look... older.

You're a woman now.

I scoff at the thought.

I'm incredibly sore. The hike after just made it worse as the adrenaline wore off. My pussy is still spotting blood two hours later, and I swear it still feels like cum is leaking out.

I prepare leftovers for dinner in my small apartment, then I text him.

Me: It's done.

Raj calls immediately. “How are you?”

"I'm not doing this over the phone. If you want details, you're going to have to come to my place."

Twenty minutes later he knocks. I answer with hair dry and loose, zero makeup, wearing an old oversized T-shirt and soft shorts with no bra. My breasts hang heavy and sway freely under the thin fabric. Raj looks great in a button down shirt and slacks. But his smile fades and he ignores my nipples poking through when he sees my battered face.

"I'm fine," I reassure him. "It was consensual."

He doesn’t joke. He leans in, kisses my lips carefully, and pulls me into a hug that lasts longer than I expected.

After my promotion I’m still living well beneath my means. He notices, of course.

“It’s just easier to wait until I merge households with my future husband,” I say, trying for lightness.

“Smart,” he answers, but his eyes stay on the bruise darkening under my eye. “So… it’s done?”

“Yes. I got laid.” I meet his gaze. “Without a doubt, I’m very thoroughly deflowered.”

We’re on the couch. I can see him getting hard, the change in his slacks subtle but unmistakable.

“I’m going to need to check your pussy,” he says, nodding toward my lap.

I give him a sly grin. “I can do better than a virginity test. I got the whole thing on video.”

My laptop is already on the coffee table, the micro-SD card from the GoPro loaded. “We watch it together once. Then I’m deleting it forever.”

By the time the video shows me lubing the dilator, Raj is fully hard. He shifts in his seat.

"That hurt, just so you know," I say as Raj watches the dilator slide inside my pussy. "It's bigger than the one Kiki used on me."

“That is very sexy, but it doesn’t count as losing your virginity, Ramya,” he teases.

“I wouldn’t make you come all the way over for a masturbation video. Just wait for it.”

"Holy shit, Ramya, what did you do," Raj says as Darius and his cousin appear.

“You broke me on the island, and this is what came out,” I say. “Just enjoy the show.”

Raj’s expression tightens when the first punch lands. He stays quiet, jaw set, while the second blow lands and I go down. Only when the shorter black guy tries to fuck me does his breathing change.

"He's too thick. He can't penetrate until his friend breaks me in first," I murmur.

Raj unzips. “Do you mind?”

I grin and shake my head, and Raj's impressive erection pops out of his pants, and he lazily strokes it while he watches.

There's no mistaking what happened when I cry out and Tall Guy's dick disappears inside me.

"My cherry just popped," I say softly. "Per your request."

Raj groans, and a glob of precome oozes out the tip of his cock.

We watch in silence. The audio is imperfect, but every pained sound I make comes through, and later the unmistakable noise of me coming twice.

“They both ejaculated inside you,” he says when Darius finishes. His voice is steady, but his hand has stilled on his cock. “It will ruin everything if you get pregnant. Did you take precautions?”

“Yes. Standard rape kit. Antivirals and emergency contraception.” I pause, then add, “They were supposed to use condoms. I was furious.” I leave out the part where the breeding made it so much hotter for me.

Raj jumps when I fire the Glock in the video. Then for the first time that night, he laughs. "He pissed his pants. Well done, girl."

The screen goes black. A long silence sits between us while he continues to stroke himself.

“You can finish that,” I offer, “or I could take care of you again,” I say, thinking about that time I sucked him off in Cancun, the only actual sexual contact we've had together since he didn't touch me in the audition.

“I could come in ten seconds if I wanted. That was… a lot.”

“You’ve really messed up my head,” I admit. “It hurt. I was terrified. And I still came twice. I even rubbed one out in the car afterward.”

Raj looks at me for a long moment. “I’ll never ask you to do something like that again,” he says. “I only wanted you to lose your virginity. I don’t want you to go through anything like that a second time.”

“I never want to do it again,” I answer. “But I’m glad I did it. I’m proud of myself. And that is completely fucked up.”

“It's not,” he says. “It doesn’t define you. You can carry the memory of being taken like that and still enjoy being handled carefully. Both can be true.”

"I hope so," I reply.

"Show me your pussy, Ramya," he commands. "I want to see what you look like all stretched out."

I obey without hesitation, sliding down my shorts and opening my legs for him. Raj kneels in front of me. "I showered, but I'm still spotting blood, and some of their semen might still be in there. You sure you want to look?"

"I'm sure." He kneels in front of the couch and carefully parts me with his thumbs. I feel the hole open wider, the hymenal tissue holding things together gone. The air feels cool on the raw flesh.

“Your pussy still looks like a small, tight crease, but once I spread the lips the hole opens wide. This is why we have the two-finger test. You’ll tighten back up some, but most Indian men will barely reach the sides.”

"Most," I agree. “But I know one Indian who can still fill me."

Raj grins and inspects my pussy for another moment.

"There's more damage than with a normal deflowering. That was a lot of girth for your first time. See a doctor if it hasn’t improved in a week.”

“Great,” I mutter, jealousy flaring faster than any fear of the damage. He’s watched other women get broken in on his island. He knows exactly how much I’ve changed.

“Ramya, you’ll never get an arranged marriage now. It was a long shot anyway for a variety of unfair reasons. Now you’re not a virgin, and you’ve even been with black guys.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Thank you for your honesty.”

Raj stands, drops his pants. "I want you to suck my dick now. Show me again what a great cocksucker you are."

"It's my pleasure," I grin. I love sucking dick in general, and I want to see how Raj treats me after he comes.

It doesn't take long. I bring out my standard power move right out of the gate with strong suction and a twirling tongue on the underside. I'm taking his load in less than a minute.

"God, you're fucking amazing," he groans as he pulses one more time and releases my hair from his grip.

I lick my lips and swallow the rest of his load. He sits beside me again and rubs the back of my neck in slow circles while my body settles.

“You finished the audition,” he says eventually. “Not on my island, but you did it.”

I shake my head. “I rejected you in the Bahamas. This was for me.”

But even as I say it, the truth sits heavy in my chest. I’ve learned too much about us both since I left that island. The obvious conclusion is right in front of us. We belong together. But even if I can admit it, I don't know if he feels the same way or even really wants to get married.

He scoffs and leans in, kisses the side of my mouth. I fight the urge for a second, then turn to face him. Our lips meet, and we share an amazing kiss. Heat rolls through me despite the soreness.

When we break apart I keep my eyes on his.

“Don’t play with my heart,” I say.

“I’m not.” His voice is quiet and certain. “There is only one Indian man worthy of you, Ramya. And he thinks your value has only gone up after today.”

I huff a small, disbelieving breath. “That might be the most arrogant and filthy thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I mean it. I don’t want you to sleep with anyone else. Only me. From now on.”

I stare at him. “You said I should marry a white American."

“No.” He doesn’t smile. “Marry me.”

"What? Raj, is this real?"

He answers by moving back to the floor, on his knees. "This is how they do it here, right?" he grins. "I arranged for my father to fly out next week. If you agree, let's introduce him to your folks." He clasps my hand. "Marry me, Ramya."

The words hang in the air.

I look at the man who watched me get taken apart on video and still wants me, who already has his father ready to fly out, who is telling me the darkest thing I’ve ever done only made me more desirable to him.

I am genuinely ruined for most Indian men now. That is simply a fact. But the best of them wants me more because of it. I don’t need his money. I am attracted to his mind, his sharpness, his humor, the way he looks at me. He is the most handsome Indian man I have ever met. And after the way I was spectacularly broken in today, I suspect I may actually need the size of him.

This is the best possible outcome I could have hoped for. My eyes tear up. I've been holding back hope, because it just seemed too good to be true. But I can now admit that I've wanted this outcome for a long time. I want him.

I hold his gaze and answer clearly.

“Yes.”