This is a true story about the transformation of my soft-spoken, timid wife into a dominatrix specialized in fetish wrestling.Now coming to the introd...ction. I am 5’8, an average-built guy working as a government bank clerk in Mumbai. I live in my flat (bought by my father) with my newly married wife, Supriti.Now Supriti is a very polite lady, 5’3 height but heavily built with huge melons. She belonged to a conservative Bengali family, so she always wore sarees. But I insisted she wears. She involuntarily cringed forward, drawing away from the blunt rubbery hardness pressing upwards into her loins, but it relentlessly followed. Her forehead was pressed tightly in the cleft between the man's neck and shoulder, her face downwards against the mattress, and she could feel the pungent smell of Dinsdale's perspiration. She felt his hands close around the tops of her buttocks, gripping them tightly, his fingers pressing downwards in her soft white flesh. He was going to impale her in. My heart started to beat faster.”Karthik, is it okay to do this inside the temple?” I asked him just for the sake of asking.”It’s just a temporary solution. Besides it is our god. I’m doing it for good only. Its okay I think.” He said and took hold of my hand pulling me behind the huge ganesha idol.The room, as usual was dark, with oil lamps on both sides. It was giving a spiritual feel as the scent of the garlands made of rose and Jasmine decorated the idol. The floor was filled with rose. “Tergin’s there; she’s probably with him,” the blacksmith reasoned hopefully. Hope was all he had.“I’ve got to go see,” Yren snarled urgently, trying to shake off the older man. “I have to make sure she’s alright.”“Yren, you can’t,” Ardt replied, his voice breaking. Ardt’s heart was thudding in his chest, his eldest daughter’s smile racing through his head. In his mind’s eye, memories of his eldest filled him: the wonder of holding her as a baby, the joy of watching her draw her first bow, the.
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