The mouth-watering aroma of freshly brewed chai filled the air as Rakesh greeted his old friend Avinash on the porch of his cozy cottage. Between sips of the steaming brew, Avinash’s eyes kept darting towards the backyard, where a stunning white woman in a turquoise sari was hanging laundry. “So? How did you do it, yaar?” Avinash asked in an urgent whisper, leaning in close. “How did YOU land such a perfect white girl as a wife!?”
Rokesh smirked and took another slow slurp of his chai before responding. “Can you keep a secret, Avi? The truth is… she’s not really white, not anymore. At least not where it counts: on the inside.”
Avinash’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
Rokesh’s grin turned sinister. “Let’s just say that when sweet little Emily came touring through our village, I saw an opportunity I couldn’t resist. It was easy to lure her away from the group with the promise of an off beaten track adventure…” He went on, relishing every detail. “She didn’t know what hit her when I grabbed her, and shoved a rag soaked in chemicals over her face. When she woke up, the real fun began.”
“I kept her locked in the cellar for weeks, bombarded her pretty head non-stop with hypnotic suggestions and subliminal conditioning. The drugs made her so susceptible. Day by day I could see her white bitch identity crumbling.”
Avinash listened with rapt horrified attention, his pants growing shamefully tight. “And… and then!?”
“Oh, I replaced it of course! Rewired her thoughts, her desires. Made her forget all about her friends, her family, her whole life before me. All she knows now is how to be the perfect desi wife.”
Avinash swallowed hard. “You’re serious? She really thinks-”
“Why don’t I show you?” Rakesh interrupted with a wicked glint in his eye. He called out to the woman with a snap of his fingers. “Idhar aao!”
The woman immediately stopped her chores and hurried over, head bowed and steps mincing. Rakesh turned to Avinash with a smug grin. “She doesn’t respond to anything else anymore. No English, no other languages. Just pure Hindi, like a true desi girl.”
To demonstrate, he barked at her in English. “Kneel, slut!” But Asha just stood there, blinking in confusion, until Rakesh repeated the command in Hindi. “Ghutno ke bal baith jao, randi!” Instantly, she dropped to her knees in the dirt, gazing up at him worshipfully. Avinash’s mouth went dry at the sight, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his zipper. “Every word I drilled into her empty head is Hindi now,” Rakesh continued, petting Asha like a well-trained bitch. “All the cries, all the begging. Everything!” He then barked another command. “Mere dost ko dikhao ki tum kitni acchi choti si Hindustani grahani ho!”
To Avinash’s shock, she obeyed immediately and started kissing and nuzzling Rakesh’s sandaled feet. “Main aapki hu, malik. Main aapki sharmeeli desi baahna hu,” she cooed between kisses.
Rokesh smirked at Avinash’s slack-jawed stare. “See? Not an ounce of defiance left. All it took was a little breaking to erase that headstrong white girl.” He fisted a hand in Asha’s silky hair and yanked her head back to expose her graceful throat. She moaned in pleasure, clearly enjoying being dominated. “The best part is, even if she somehow got free, she wouldn’t know how to function outside anymore. No skills besides cooking, cleaning, serving and fucking.” He shoved her face into his crotch to punctuate the point, groaning as she mouthed hungrily at his hardness through the cloth.
“Isn’t that right, meri gulaam? No thoughts in that silly head but pleasuring your husband?” Rokesh then pushed her face deeper into his crotch, giving her a sign of what she should do next.
“H-haan ji!” she gasped, pulling his zipper down with her teeth. “Main aapko khush karna chahti hu…”
Rakesh turned back to Avinash with a lascivious smile, petting his obedient wife as she began to suck his cock right in front of his friend. “So you see Avi, with the right methods, you can have your very own white girl turned pliable desi fucktoy. And I’m happy to show you how…”
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