The Rathore bungalow was still heavy with the smell of sweat, cum, and raw sex from the morning’s brutal reclamation fuck. Priya and Lakshmi lay sprawled on the living room floor like broken dolls bodies covered in fresh bite marks, red handprints, and drying family cum leaking from their stretched choot and gaand. The permanent marker words from last night’s punishment still glared on their skin faintly: “DOODH WALE KI RANDI” across Priya’s heavy tits and “RATHORE KI RANI NAHI… SADHARAN DOODH WALI RANDI” on Lakshmi’s thick thighs. The women were trembling, holes throbbing, but the men weren’t done.

Rajesh stood up, his massive cock still half-hard, and pulled out a black plastic bag he had brought back from Mumbai. “Humne business trip pe kuch special cheezein li thi… specially tum dono randiyon ke liye. Aaj yeh candles tumhari saza ka agla round hain. Pehle normal candles se tumhari body ko garam karenge… phir special hollow candles andar daal kar pura wax tumhari choot mein bhar denge. Har drop… har inch… tumhare andar hi pighalega. Aur tum kuch nahi kar paogi.”