When My Boss Offered His Wife – Part 2

By now, the medications had done their job. Roshan had stopped even trying. His desire was gone, replaced by silence. Simran was observing all the changes happening. He used to come into bed and sleep without even touching her.

One night, Simran lay beside him. She slid closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Where the manipulation begins, Simran started her psychological games because it was time to take the next step. “Roshan… will you please hold me?”

He hesitated. “Simran… I can’t.”

She pressed further and said, “Can’t? Or you don’t even want to?”

Roshan’s eyes stayed shut. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you again.”

Simran snapped, hearing that. “Don’t want to? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shuffled and replied in a trembling tone: “I… I just… I don’t want to make it worse.”

Simran: “Make it worse? Roshan, open your damn eyes. Do you even get what it feels like to lie next to a man you love, wanting him, and getting bullshit?”

Roshan: “I… I try…”

Simran: “Try? Try my ass. Every damn night, I reach for you. I want you. I need you. And you just lie there like a useless sack. Do you even know what it does to me?”

He turned quiet: “I… I’m sorry… I… I’m trying in other ways, know?”

Simran: “What the fuck are you even saying?”

Roshan: “Simran, I still make you feel good. Don’t I? With my fingers… with my tongue… I try to keep you satisfied.”

She tilted her head, “Roshan, do you even hear yourself? You’re proud that you finger me? Proud that you lick me because you can’t fuck me like a man?”

Simran leaned forward and added more, “And don’t you dare tell me that fixes a thing. Do you even get how humiliating this is?”

He looked down, ashamed, “I… I… I’m giving it my best…”

Simran threw her hands up in irritation, “Your best? Your best is pathetic, Roshan! You used to want me so bad I could barely walk the next morning. And now… nothing. You’re a joke in bed, do you realise that?”

He said weakly: “I… I can’t…”

Simran’s tone dropped to soft, “No, Roshan. Don’t lie to me. You can’t or you don’t want to? Which is it? Tell me. Because I see the fear in your eyes.”

He stayed silent, head down, voice barely a whisper: “I… I don’t know… maybe I can’t and don’t want to”

Simran: “Bullshit! I’m sick of this shit. I’m lying here every night, dying for a touch, and you lie there? Fucking useless. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for me? To feel invisible while you pretend nothing’s wrong?”

He was ashamed, “I… I can still…”

Simran cut him off: “Still what? You think licking my pussy, fingering me, makes up for zero effort? You’re a joke! A weak-ass man who can’t even keep his dick hard for his wife. Do you know how that feels for a woman, Roshan? Do you?”

Roshan: “I… I… I’m sorry… I can’t…”

Simran leaned back, exhaling.
Simran: “Now you feel it, huh? Feel what it’s like to be me? To be left wanting by the man who’s supposed to make you feel alive? Good. Keep that in your head.”

She was upset, yeah, but she was also acting all that. Every tear, every word… it was for him to feel his own failure.

From inside, she was buzzing with control. “This is perfect. Every stutter, every pathetic attempt, every trembling word, he thinks I’m hurt. Haha, He thinks I’m crying inside. But I’m not. I’m the one running this show. He’s bending exactly where I want him.”

Things got relaxed after a few moments, and Simaran began her drama. To show that she still cares for him.

Simran said in a sober tone: “Roshan, listen na”

Roshan: “Say, listening.”

Simran’s subtle, low voice continued: “At least… try. For me. Once. Please.”

Hesitant Roshan kissed her and touched her boobs. His body responded for a few minutes, just the same as before, half-hard. She guided him between her thighs, whispering, “Yes, baby… just like before.”

But midway, his cock softened, unable to stroke more. He froze, then groaned and pulled back, shame covering his face.

She touched his cheek. “Roshan… what happened?”

Roshan: “I don’t know. I wanted to… I really wanted to fuck.”

She continued her acting, her tone was all innocent. She grabbed her own boobs with both hands, squeezing them together hard enough to make her nipples peek through the thin fabric of her nightie. “Look at these, Roshan, don’t you want to taste?”

He remained silent. Then she turned around, pulled her panties down to give him a glimpse of her ass. “This used to drive you wild,” she said while slapping her own ass cheek hard enough to leave a red mark.

“You’d grab me like this,” she demonstrated by squeezing her ass with both hands. Then she continued by standing beside the bed, “Do you think it’s me? Am I not good enough anymore to excite you?”

Roshan: “No! Don’t say that. You’re perfect, Simran. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

Her inner thought was, “Perfect. That’s what I needed, his confession that he is a failure.”

She let a tear slip from one eye and said, “Then what am I supposed to do? How long can I wait for my husband to be my husband again?”

He talked more, but broken: “I… I still love you, Simran. I’m still here. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Simran’s lips curved bitterly. “Love? You love me like a brother loves his sister now. Is that what we are? Siblings under the same roof?”

Roshan’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that… please.”

She pressed her palm against his chest, right where his heart raced. “You think a woman survives on cuddles, Roshan? On kisses on the forehead? Tell me, Roshan, what am I supposed to do when my husband stops being my man? Hm?”

He looked at her, stammering: “I… I give you pleasure. I am tryin…”

Simran cut him off, harder: “You try. Always trying, but never doing. It’s felt like an insult seeing you collapse on me like a skeleton?”

His face burned red; his eyes were wet. “I… I’ve been seeing the doctor for a few months. You know that, Simran, I am putting in efforts, I’m doing everything I can.”

She gave a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Doctor? Pills? It’s been months, Roshan. Where’s the change? Where’s the fire? You think I don’t notice?”

He dropped his face into his hands. “I’m trying… I don’t know what else to do.”

She leaned closer and continued her whispering, “Do you know how lonely I feel lying next to you? You touch me, but you don’t want me. You hold me, but you don’t fuck me. You think I don’t see you avoiding me, night after night? Hiding behind excuses?”

Roshan: “I’m ashamed. I don’t want to fail again.”

She replied to him, pretending sympathy. “And what about me, Roshan? Am I supposed to rot here while you figure yourself out? Tell me. What does a woman do when her husband is alive but already dead in bed? Not getting any attention.”

He was completely broke, he replied, grabbing her wrists. “Stop, please. Don’t say that. I’ll fix it. I swear to you.”

Her tears fell, but inside she was electrified with a thought, “Yes. Beg. Plead. Break. Every time you call yourself broken, I feel I am winning. Every time you promise me what you can’t deliver, you dig your grave deeper.”

Simran: “I don’t want promises, Roshan. I want you. But maybe… maybe you’re gone.”

Roshan buried his face in her stomach like a child. She held him, soothing, but inside her mind hissed with triumph that once her husband was her master. Now he was her pet. And he was not even realising it.

That night, he cracked fully. Before sleeping, he cried for a while, resting his head on her.

The next morning, Roshan was still broken. Having those embarrassing thoughts. Once he saw Simran, he told her, “Simran. Don’t say those things… You were talking at night. I am committed to your pleasure, and for that, I’ll do anything. I’ll find a cure. Don’t leave me. Please”

Simran: “Roshan, I love you. And there is no way I can leave, okay. Don’t ever think like that. But you will also agree, I miss being fucked. Do you remember when I couldn’t walk in the mornings? When you made me scream so loud I thought the neighbours would know?”

Roshan: “Yes… Yes, I remember. I doubt I can be that man again. I’ve lost him.”

Simran: “That’s where hollow space was created in me, Roshan. The missing sex. And I don’t know what I will do now? Am I your wife, or just a caretaker? Tell me… will I never get that fucks again?”

Roshan: “Don’t say that. Please. You will. I swear you will.”

She kissed his wet cheeks and said, “And what if you can’t? It’s been quite a few months since you’ve been getting treatment from top doctors, so it seems nothing has worked. There is no concrete improvement. Am I supposed to die quietly inside, while you apologise every night?”

His arms tightened, desperation spilling. “No. No, I’ll change. … don’t stop loving me. Please”

She caressed him softly, but her inner thoughts were dark, “I don’t love you tonight, nor tomorrow. I will own you. And every tear you shed feeds me. You think I’m weeping with you. I’m not. I’m smiling.”

These things were evident in his office behaviour too. I had noticed him more lately. Even at lunch, he wasn’t the same confident, commanding Roshan everyone admired. Something weighed him down.

Me: “Sir… you’ve been quiet lately. Is there any issue?”

He stirred his coffee slowly and replied.
Roshan: “Umm… nothing, everything’s fine with work. It’s… other things. Personal.”

I nodded, careful not to cross the boundary, but we were chill discussing any topic, so I told him he could express.

Me: “Everything fine in the family?”

He gave a faint, tired smile.

Roshan: “You’re not in any relationship yet, are you, Nikhil? No serious relationship?”

I shook my head.
Me: “No, Sir.”

He exhaled, leaning back.
Roshan: “Then you can’t understand. There’s a kind of… silence that grows between two people. Something… absent, missing. You try to fill it, but the more you try, the hollower it feels.”

He pressed his lips together, then added,
Roshan: “I can’t even put it into words. Only… it hurts in a way you can’t share with anyone. Because no one else would understand.”

And that was it. He returned to his coffee, lost in thought. To the world, Roshan was still sharp, admired, untouchable. But I could never guess that time that this man was weighed down by something far deeper than office stress, a private collapse that no one would ever notice.

That night, Simran was half-asleep. Roshan reached for her shoulder, trying to cuddle.

She jerked away, snapping, “Don’t. Just don’t touch me, Roshan.”

He blinked, stunned. “Simran, what the…”

She turned around on him. “I’m done with your drama. You’re useless. Useless!”

He sat up. “I’m trying, dammit.”

She barked, her eyes on fire. “Trying? Is this your trying? You think this is marriage? I feel like a widow sleeping next to a living man.”

His shouted. “Shut up, Simran. Don’t you dare talk like that to me.”

She shouted back louder, “Why? Because it’s true.”

Roshan: “I went to the fucking doctor! I’m on the meds, I’m doing everything…”

Simran screamed: “And nothing’s fucking working! Not a damn dick!”

He tightened his fists, face red. “I… I don’t know what to do more.”

She jumped out of bed, hair flying. “Then what the hell do you want me to do? Sit here with a dead pussy and a dead marriage? Or should I just go and find somebody who’ll fuck me like a man?”

The words hit like a slap to him.
Roshan’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Simran yelled at him, “You heard me. Maybe I should go outside. At least then I’ll know I’m still a woman and not some dried-up doll lying next to you.”

Roshan: “Don’t you dare bring outsiders into this house. Don’t you fucking dare.”

She gave a sharp, broken laugh. “Why not? You’re not touching me, you’re not fucking me. What’s left for me, huh?”

Listening to this, Roshan roared back, “Shut up! Shut your filthy mouth!”

“I won’t!” she screamed, stepping closer to confront him.
Simran: “Because my filthy mouth is the only thing speaking the truth. You’re not the man anymore.”

Roshan: “Fuck you, Simran. I kill myself trying every night, and all you do is spit on me!”

She slapped her own chest, “And what about me? What about the nights I cry into the pillow because I can’t even remember the last time I felt dick deep inside me? What about the emptiness eating me alive? Do you give a fuck about that?”

He shut his eyes, fists pressed to his temples. “Stop, stop… please.”

But she didn’t. Her words kept coming like knives. “No. You stop. Either be a husband or tell me to go outside. But don’t keep me in this half-dead hell.”

His hands shot up, gripping her shoulders. “Simran…”

She shoved him away violently. “Don’t you touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me again!”

In a moment of blinding frustration, Roshan slapped her. His hand cracked into her right cheek. She staggered back, stunned.

She lowered her head, hopeless and raw: “Yeah… guess that’s all I get from you now. Nothing… nothing at all…”

She collapsed onto the bed, sobbing loudly, but her tears were jagged.

“I gave you everything, Roshan. I even gave up on every other man because you were enough. But now? Now I’m lying here starving, begging like a fucking beggar.”

His voice cracked. “I am so sorry. Really. Don’t say that… please, Simran. Don’t say outsider. Don’t…”

She whipped her head up, “Then tell me what the fuck I should do! Should I keep lying here, rubbing my pussy when you turn off? Should I die unsatisfied, with a husband who’s only a husband in name?”

He stared at her. He had no answer. And he realised that the slap was a mistake, so he could not confront anyone else. Though she kept pressing him harder, her words were relentless.

“Tell me, Roshan. Do I really deserve this? You tell me what I should do?”

Roshan: “I… I don’t know.”

“Exactly!” she screamed. “You don’t know because there’s no answer. Unless… unless I go outside. Unless you let me.”

He staggered back like she’d stabbed him. “You’re insane. That’s betrayal, Simran. That’s filth.”

Her voice softened, deadly calm. “No. It’s survival.”

For a long time, everything became silent. Finally, Roshan sat down, face buried in his hands. His voice was low, and he was crying. “If… if we even think about this madness… There will be rules.”

Her head snapped up. “Rules?”

“Yes! You don’t get to just run off with anyone. I won’t let you throw our marriage into the gutter. If it has to happen…” Roshan said in a low voice.

Simaran: “Whoa! Wait. Are you saying I can look outside?”

Roshan replied in soft, awkwardly: “Unfortunately, yes! But it should happen with someone I can trust. Someone who knows his place. Someone who won’t come between us.”

She nodded quickly, almost too quickly. “Yes, Roshan. Of course. You think I want another man? No. I only want to feel alive again. I want you. But since you can’t, then… only under your rules. Only with your consent.”

He leaned closer to add more, “It will not be a love ever. It will never go beyond the body. Fucks. You understand? The moment fuck does, it’s over.”

“I understand,” she said softly, her eyes were wet, though inside her mind she was smiling.

“And it has to be someone discreet. Loyal. Someone who won’t run his mouth, who won’t humiliate me or you”, Roshan said.

She touched his hand, pretending to tremble. “Yes… Only someone you choose. Only someone you trust.”

“But who should be that guy?” Simran tossed the question to him.

Roshan rubbed his face, “I… I don’t know. You’re thinking too far ahead.”

She laughed bitterly, stepping closer. “Far ahead? Roshan, we’re talking reality. You can’t give me what I need. If you won’t, then we have to find someone who can.”

He froze at her tone. “You’re not serious. This isn’t… I can’t just digest this…”
She cut him off, “Don’t start with that crap. I’m serious, I really need it. And you better start thinking, or I’ll pick someone myself.”

Roshan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Fine… but we need rules. Someone we both… trust. Someone discreet. Not a random jerk who will blab everything.”

She nodded, “Trust, discreet… loyalty. Don’t forget that. I want him controlled, but not overbearing.

Smart enough to follow instructions, dumb enough to keep his mouth shut. Got it?”

He replied. “Yes… I got it.”

“Good. Now, who?” She crossed her arms, daring him to speak.

He hesitated. “What about… Ramesh. I noticed he stalks you?”

She raised a brow. “Ramesh? That guy is sloppy, laughs at everything, and thinks he’s funny. You’re kidding me? He’ll probably smear everything in two days.”

He nodded. “Yeah… true. Not him.”

She tapped her fingers against her arm. “Someone dependable… someone competent. Maybe someone who doesn’t even realise he’s eligible for this kind of… mess.”

Roshan grimaced. “I… don’t know anyone like that offhand. Most people are either too arrogant or too loud.”

She leaned forward, voice soft but dangerous: “Do you know why this is so important, Roshan? Because if I choose wrong, I don’t just get nothing. I get humiliation. And I’ve had enough of it from you. Haha!”

Roshan: “You. Stop it. I understand what you are thinking, though. I… I want to make sure it’s safe for both of us. Don’t want… you know…”

“Safe? Safe is what I make it. I don’t want safe. I want someone who knows their place. Who knows exactly what to do when I tell them? And you,” she added, stepping close to him.

He nodded, tension cutting through him. “Alright. Alright… maybe… Nikhil?”

Simran froze, then slowly smirked. “Ah… yes. That one. We met at the Diwali celebration. He’s young, eager, obedient enough, sharp enough to… follow directions without questioning too much. Could work.”

Roshan forwarded. “You’re sure? He’s… junior. We can’t afford mistakes. It has to be someone discreet, someone who won’t spill anything. Are you sure about him?”

Her laugh was low, teasing. “Junior? He’ll listen. And I’ll make sure he knows boundaries. Safe, discreet, perfect for what we need. Don’t worry. And yes… I’ve already considered his qualities, the way he thinks, and how he reacts. He won’t fuck it up.”

Roshan exhaled slowly, conflicted, but the tension between them shifted. “Fine… fine. But only under strict rules. No emotions, no attachments, nothing beyond… what’s necessary. Understood, right?”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Of course. Just a tool. A helper. Nothing else. You understand, right?”

Roshan: “Yes… I understand”

Simran: “I hardly saw and met him just for a moment. I want to meet him first before I can confirm Nikhil.”

Roshan: “Umm. That makes sense, too. I will try to approach him first, it’s not gonna easy for me to discuss that. Anyways, I will give you an update once I get something.”

She smiled faintly, deadly calm: “Good. Now… we plan. Boundaries, schedule, everything. If this goes wrong, it’s on both of us. But if it works… we get exactly what we need.”

And with that, the first step of their dangerous, twisted plan was laid bare.

To be continued…
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