Chapter 2: The Society Uncles Claim Their Building Randi

A full week had passed since that fateful night when Arjun caught me dressed as Ria and claimed me as his personal sissy slut. He had used me three more times since then — quick, rough sessions where he bred me and left without much conversation. My hole was still tender, constantly reminding me of my new reality. Yet the craving only grew stronger. I had become addicted to the feeling of being used.

It was a Wednesday evening. I was home alone, feeling particularly slutty after Arjun had messaged that he was busy. I decided to dress up fully. I slipped into a short pink satin nighty that barely reached mid-thigh, with nothing underneath except a matching lace bra. The smooth fabric teased my shaved skin, and the deep neckline showed off my padded chest. I did light makeup — pink glossy lips, subtle eyeliner, and my wig styled in soft waves. I felt like a cheap housewife whore waiting to be used.

The doorbell rang at 8:20 PM.

I peeked through the peephole. It was Uncle Sharma (52), the society secretary — short, pot-bellied, balding, but always authoritative. He had come to collect the monthly maintenance payment. In my horny haze, I had completely forgotten to change back into Rohan’s clothes.

Panic hit me, but it was too late. I opened the door slightly, trying to hide behind it.

“Uncle ... hi ... I’ll just transfer the money online—”

Sharma pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. His eyes widened as they took in the pink nighty, smooth legs, and feminine face. For a moment he looked shocked. Then a slow, dirty smile spread across his face.

“Arre wah ... Society mein aisi secret randi chhupi hui thi?” He closed the door behind him and locked it. “Tu wohi Rohan hai na? Ab toh Ria lag rahi hai bilkul.”