Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Life Of An Indian Wife Part 3 Disclaimer:All characters are real and no names have been changed even though I am not directly involved in this story but this account was given to me by the women concerned. This story is still going on at the time of writing. Slowly my mind cleared and I realised that it was way passed my school time, this was confirmed when I checked the clock beside my bed, I was late by more than one hour and my mom did not wake me up. Then it hit me, may be mom was still in the room next door so I quietly tip toed to the wooden partition and peered through the gap, surprisingly my cousin's room was empty. After brushing my teeth and changing my wet panties I put on a salwar kurta(indian dress) and went downstairs to get something to eat.When I entered in the kitchen all thoughts of food just evaporated because the scene in front of me was again some kind of nightmare. My mother was standing by the sink trying to wash dishes, normal enough but she was topless her bra and blouse lay at her feet, her saree was not covering her top half either. She was a little bent at the waist and was pushing back on the cock which was fucking her, there was no indication that it was a rape because she was moaning and begging the man to fuck her harder. Her saree and peticoat was again bunched up on her waist and I could see a black strong male hairy ass pistoning away. That man was completely naked , I half expected it to be Ashu but he was sitting naked in one of the chairs with another naked boy. Then I recognized the other two chaps one was Rakesh and the other was Suresh his friends, even though both of them were 3-4 years his senior but they were in the same class as both of them had failed this class and the previous one twice. Rakesh was fucking my mother and Suresh was sitting in a chair facing me slowly jacking of his limp cock as he looked at me and gave me a smile, there was no pretext of hiding his privates instead in his eyes there was an excitement and in a way he was inviting me. Ashu got up and stood infront of me with his semi hard cock and asked "So my dear sister wants some of this is it?". I recoiled in shock and ran away to my room, while Ashu and his friends laughed. Once inside my room I started crying, to be honest I did not know what else to do. My mom has been the only good thing in my life uptil now but she was not the women I had known, one moment she was begging my father no to humiliate her and the next she was letting teenagers use her as a common street whore. Even though I was quite inexperienced yet it was plain to see that she was enjoying it. Thinking about this I kept crying and slowly drifted to a troubled sleep. I had weird dreams where my father and brothers were mythical monster devouring me, raping me and my mother egging them on. I dont know how long I slept but my sleep was broken very gently by a sweet voice and a reassuring hand in my hair. From somewhere far I could hear my mom saying in her lovely voice -Get up dear, you did not eat anything today. Look I made something for you, get up and have it before it gets cold -. For the first few moments of my consciousness everything was normal, my doting mom was waiting on me.Slowly I opened my eyes with a smile and wham everything came back to me like a nausea , the warm feeling disappeared specially when I looked up towards my mother. She was standing there with a plate in her hand. She was made up like a indian bride with all the gold ornaments, nose ring, big ear rings,gold bangles, heavy necklace, waist chain,ankle chain, teekka(worn on the head) etc. Only thing missing was her bridal dress for that matter any dress, yes she was completely naked not a stitch of cloth. She was trying to smile but it was one of those forced smiles and I could clearly see sadness in her eyes. -Get up beti(daughter/dear) eat something, you have been through a lot since yesterday at least have something otherwise you will fall sick. - said my mother with the same genuine concern which I had seen umpteen times since child hood. Till this day I don -(TM)t know what came over me in that instant as I hit the plate in her hand which went crashing down on the floor. I shouted or cried but I said - get out you whore you are no mother of mine. I don -(TM)t want to be called your daughter. I don -(TM)t want anything to do with you get out get out. Why don -(TM)t you just die -. She did not say a thing except slowly crumple down on her knees and cry with her face in her hand. For the next 15 minutes or so only thing heard in the room was sobbing noises and my crying. When my hysterics had stopped a little I heard a faint whisper -Please darling you must understand me, you must have pity on your mother, if you hate me I will not be able to live, please listen to what I say patiently and then make your decision. - -What can you say that will make any difference you slut, I saw everything how you behaved like a kutia(hindi female dog). Just like the kutiya on the street you let ever stray dog breed you. Do you do the same thing when I am at school. - I could not control myself all my anger and frustration were thrown at my mom. Again instead of reprimanding me she slowly started speaking -you are correct I am a kutia but who isn -(TM)t. Can you name one women who hasn -(TM)t got fucked by men against her will at least once in her life. Do you think marriage means safety from forced sex, every women has been coerced forced or raped by their husbands one time or the other. Why did God make us feminine? , why did not God make us muscular like men? Because we were never supposed to compete with the men, we were supposed to serve them and breed with them and nothing else. All the other things that you see are just facade. I know it is hard for you to understand I was the same at your age until the day my father sold me to an old thakur(landowner/influential man of village) in lieu of his debt. God did not save me when that old man kept me locked in a room and raped me repeatedly. The more I tried to protect my virtue the more thrashing I received. Until one day I stopped fighting and that day I did not get a beating, you tell me was it wrong to protect my life. The next time Thakur came for me I spread my legs for him and let him do whatever he wanted with my body. If truth be told he had bought me from my father so I was his property, that day he gave good me food instead of leftovers and scraps, he even allowed to me to take a bath. From then on I started welcoming him and the more I satisfied his needs the more freedom he gave me. Now think for yourself if I had resisted would I be alive today. That day I knew God has made women to serve men and nothing else. - At this point she stopped and looked at me there was tears in her eyes and I was now speechless and shocked with an expression of incredulity on my face. I knew she was telling the truth but the truth was so far off my life and experience it was like a bad story. When I was able to speak I asked -What about dad, did he rescue you from that old man? - My mother smiled but it was a sarcastic smile and then she said -Hardly my dear, I lived with that old man as his Rakhail(mistress/kept women) for nearly two years and yes I did everything he wanted me to do and tried to enjoy it as much as possible. Then suddenly one day that old man was dead and his sons who hated my guts had me thrown out on the street, when I went back to my family they said I was a shameless bitch to come back after what I had done. According to them I had brought disrepute to my family. So there I was with no money no man to protect me and nowhere to go with little education. I wandered for from village to village for couple of months sleeping under a tree and eating out of garbage. Hope you never have to go through this my darling but remember in this world without a man this is what happens to a women. This is how lord almighty has made it. Kids used to stone me and call me pugly(mad women). One day I decided to end my life and jumped in a river hoping to drown. Next thing I remember was strong arms pulling me and saying something I did not understand. Somebody saved my life but I did not even know what language he spoke in and I passed out.