The living room was packed tonight. Door wide open—no lock, no chain. Corridor light flooded in like a spotlight. Ramesh stood in the doorway—khaki pants open, hand stroking slow. Two more watchmen behind him—older, rougher—eyes hungry, breathing heavy. They didn’t speak. Just watched. More shadows gathered outside—neighbors peeking, phones up, recording silent.

Karan in the center—naked, dick thick and veiny, already leaking. Aisha tied to the coffee table—on her back, legs pulled high and wide by ropes to table legs. Arms stretched back, cuffed to table edge. Boobs bruised black-purple, nipples clamped with heavy weights—bells jingling every breath. Pussy open wide—lips spread by silver chain pulled taut. Ass hole already slick from lube Karan smeared earlier—red and ready.