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Adriana Chechik

“Ah you’re back!” Trupti says. She is naked too. But wearing high heels.

“Trupti, what the hell? Let me go!” I struggle against the restraints. “How did I get here?”

“You know how you got here.” she shrugs.

“No I don’t. The last thing I remember, we were in the Uber…and…”

Suddenly my mind is flooded with a memory. I was freaked out by what Malay was saying. I ran out and called and Uber. I got in the Uber. And then…the memory was bizarre. I was sitting there talking to myself. Arguing with myself. The driver kept looking back, worried. He said my behavior worried him. Finally he said he would call 911. I tried to bribe him by flashing my tits. He didn’t bite. And then I heard myself saying,

“Okay Fariq, calm down. I was just messing with you. It’s a social experiment. We are trying to see at what point cab drivers start noticing when their passengers are behaving strangely and call the authorities. It is a vital public policy issue. This was just an experiment.”

“Really?” he asked, still skeptical.

“Yes, Fariq, really. I do not have a bluetooth. I am not going to flash you my breasts. I was just acting out a script back here, trying to gauge when you would speak up and act. And I am glad to tell you, it was very prompt. You are a great driver, Fariq, and a great citizen.”

The driver kept staring at me for a few seconds.

“Are you serious, miss?”

“Very serious!”

“Phew!” he said and laughed. “I tell you, I was really freaked out when you started talking about all that weird shit. So I immediately started thinking about dialing 911.”

“You did a great job, Fariq.”

“So you are really okay?”

“Do I not look okay?” I asked, sitting calmly in my place. “I am telling you, it was a social experiment. A test. You passed.”

And the memory faded away. And I was back in the chair, tied up and naked. I looked up at Trupti. She smiled. And disappeared. Suddenly the ropes disappeared too. And then I saw myself standing, looking at an empty chair. Before I could move, the restraints were back.

“Do you get it now?” Trupti asked.

“Yes, I think I do. You are…me.”

“Hehe, not just you, the best part of you!” she said, swaggering around. Well, I guess I was swaggering around. “The part of you unencumbered by outdated values and beliefs. The part looking for what you have been conditioned to deny yourself. Happiness…satisfaction…contentment…Trupti!”

I digested what she said. And then suddenly, a bunch of huge realizations dawned upon me.

“Wait…so I am the one who stripped in front of those homeless guys and sucked their dicks? I made those guys in Central Park fight? And that taxi driver…”

“Depends on what the meaning of “I” is I guess. In a true sense, it was me. But in a physical sense, the way others will remember, yes, it was you.” she came close to me and rubbed my nipples. Or I guess I rubbed my own nipples.

And then she whispered. “All those years, your parents suppressed your sexuality and your agency…it kept building up. I was always part of you, the part you tried to hide. Trying to break through, but unable to. And then that evening in Baltimore, maybe because you were also freaked out about the bus ride, the volcano erupted.”

“And you became real.”

“I became real. To you. I guess the real question is…are you real and I am just a manifestation of your inner instincts? Or…and this will blow your mind…am I the real one…the one who has always been real…and you are just the manifestation of the instincts I need to kill?”

My head hurt.

“Is that why I feel so tired and sleepy all the time? Because I don’t actually sleep? I turn into you?”

“I guess so.” she said and then smiled. “How would I know? You think I have a separate existence? I am trying to figure all this out just as much as you are.”

“Am I even actually tied up? How can I tie myself up this tight? I don’t remember even having ropes. Am I just in my apartment arguing with myself?”

“Wow!” Trupti said. “I never thought of it that way. I guess you’re right. Try getting up then.”

I tried to get up. But I couldn’t. The ropes felt very real. I knew they weren’t real. But still, I couldn’t get up. She laughed.

“Why am I tied up?”

“Listen genius, didn’t you just figure out that you can’t be tied up?”

“Okay…I am not really tied up. I can’t get up because…the part of me that is you doesn’t want the part of me that is me to move. Why not?”

“Because you are fucking up the Vernon sancaktepe escort plan.”


“Vernon will be coming over any second. I have the cameras all set up. We are…or rather you are going to have sex with him, film it, and send it to Jan. Don’t worry. Our face won’t be in the videos. We aren’t stupid. All Jan will see is her husband banging some random chick.”

“I don’t want that, Trupti. I know Jan is a bitch. But I don’t want to do this. This seems too much.” I sincerely explain.

“And that is why you are tied up.” she says and smiles.

I sigh and try to fight off the restraints. But they get tighter. I know they are imaginary. But I still can’t release myself from them.

“Why do you care so much about punishing Jan?” I ask.

“Because sweetie, you care about punishing Jan. Stop being so dense.”

She was right. This was an internal struggle between my need to punish Jan and also not punish Jan.


The doorbell rang. Trupti looked at me and smiled. And then she walked towards the door. Suddenly, she was clothed. In a robe. She…or rather opened the door. I was still tied up in the chair. But I could also see whatever was happening out there. It was like I was in two places at the same time.

“Hi there!” Vernon’s smiling face met us. “I am here as promised.”

“Oh Vernon!” we said and kissed him. He tried to put his hands inside the robe. Trupti wanted it to happen. I slapped him away.

“Not so fast, darling!” Trupti said. “Have a seat.”

Vernon walked to the couch and sat down. He looked at us and smiled.

“Jan and the kids are at home. I still can’t believe she treats you so nastily.”

“What will she think if she finds out we are here?” Trupti said.

“She will throw a fit for sure!” he giggled. “I mean, come on! You know Jan better than almost anyone else. She is a total bitch. Imagine being married to her.”

“That must be hard.” Trupti said, pouring a tall drink for him. “Here, have this. I will be right back.”

Vernon sat on the couch. And we walked back together to the bedroom. As soon as we entered, the scene changed.

There I sat, naked and bound to a chair. The rope was tightly bound over my boobs, digging into my nipples, hurting them, making my massive boobs look like four globes instead of two. A rope ran over my crotch too, digging into my labia, rubbing against my clit, creating a painful yet pleasant sensation.

Trupti stood a few feet away from me. Also completely naked. Not completely naked. She was wearing high heels. And she had a knife in her hands. Smiling that manic smile. Her tits, as big as mine, standing confidently taut.

“Why won’t you just give in?” she asked, striding close to me, and placing the tip of the knife between my boobs.

“I can’t.” I say. “I wasn’t raised like that.”

“That’s what’s stopping you? How you were raised?” Trupti threw her head back and laughed. She then brought her face close to mine and said, “For fuck’s sake. Can’t you see we’re on the edge of something important here?”

“It’s still wrong.” I said.

I closed my eyes and struggled to free myself from the restraints. I knew that if I tried hard enough, I could go free. I just wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe if I tried to distract her.

“Wrong, huh?” Trupti said, and threw the knife on the floor. She then held up her right index finger and smiled at me. She decided to distract me.

“No, please don’t.” I implored.

“You know you like it.” she said and bent in the waist in front of me.

“Please…” I said, now feebly, as Trupti’s fingers slid under the rope, and found my clit. Accurately. Instantly. The way only she could. The way no one else could.

“You know you want more.” she whispered in my ear.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…” I moaned in response to what her fingers were doing.

“You know we have to do this.” she said, rubbing faster.

“Mmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhh…” I groaned.

“Can’t do this without you. I would’ve done it myself but you know it isn’t possible anymore.” Trupti said and her fingers went into overdrive.

And I could sense that despite not wanting to, I was about to orgasm. And I would, in all probability, join her in the plan. And help her finish it. Because I did start it with her.

I came.

I knew, intellectually, that this was just me masturbating. But to me, it seemed really real that I had been fingered by my hot friend Trupti. Like that very first night sarıyer escort in the dirty apartment in the rundown by the river. Oh right, that building, bought by our company after a foreclosure. Which I was supposed to accompany an appraiser to, before starting the renovations. She made me cum that night. And now again.

“Ohhhhh Trupti!” I said. Oh satisfaction.

Maybe she was right. Jan was a bitch. Her husband was out there. I had obviously slept around a lot in recent weeks. A lot! Maybe Trupti had a point when she said she is the real one and I am imaginary. And what she had in mind with Vernon was brilliant. Fuck him without showing my face, then send Jan the videos. Maybe even post them online. What was the harm in the plan?

“Exactly. What’s the harm?” Trupti said, reading my mind. I looked at her and nodded.

The ropes fell away. I was free. And now standing in my bedroom wearing the robe. I looked at myself in the mirror. For the first time, I saw myself as Trupti and Trupti as myself.

“Do you want me to do it?” Trupti asked. “Or would you rather?”

“I guess it’s time I stop using a mental mask.”

I slipped the robe off and got naked. Walked to the door and opened it. Vernon was sitting there, having his drink and checking his phone. He turned around at the sound of the door opening.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed as he saw my naked form walk out.

“You like what you see?” I seductively said.

“Oh yes!” he nodded. The erection in his pants was obvious.

“Let’s fuck, Vernon.” I said, surreptitiously checking the cameras to make sure they were positioned accurately.

He quickly lowered his pants and out sprang a medium sized white cock. Just as I was about to climb on top of him,

“Open up!! OPEN UP!!”

It was Malay’s voice. Followed by banging on the door.

“Oh shit!” Vernon started losing his wood. “Who’s that?”

“No one. Just a friend.” I said, wrapping my fingers around his dick to keep it alive.

“A boyfriend?” his eyes went wide. “Maybe I should go to the bedroom while you sort it out.”

He started getting up. But I kept my grip on his dick and held him in place. If he went to the bedroom, where there were no cameras, the whole point of this plan was moot.

“Just stay where you are.” I said. “I’ll get rid of him.”

I quickly threw on the robe and opened the door slightly, with the chain still on.

“Malay, calm down.” I said.

“Let me in.” he started pushing at the door.

“Malay, go away. We’ll talk later.” I said, trying to sound authoritative.

“How can I calm down? You’re freaking me out. Why did you run away back there? And what did you mean Trupti Darshan was a real person?”

“It was a prank, okay? I took it too far.” I said. “Now please, go home. I will call you later.”

“Why can’t we talk now?”

“I have…company.” I blushed.

“Oh.” his shoulders slumped. “A man?”

I nodded.

“Sorry…oh I am so sorry.” he backed away and his voice quivered. “I think…I thought…I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realize we were in very different places. I was being stupid.”

“Malay, it’s okay. I will call you later.”

He just turned around and started walking away. And I saw him wipe one eye as he did so.

I was about to open the chain and run out behind him. But instead the door slammed shut.

“What a wimp!” Trupti said in my head.

“Shut up! He is nice.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, stop with this nonsense. Vernon is waiting. If you can’t do it, I will.”

I turned around. Vernon was a little nervous, but his dick was still out.

“Maybe we should reschedule.” he said.

“Well…” I started saying and then Trupti continued. “No you stud…I am hot for you now.”

I watched quietly as she slipped the robe off again, and got on our knees in front of Vernon. She opened her mouth and I took his semi-flaccid dick inside my mouth.

“Oh you’re good!” the old man said, sitting back.

He started getting hard again. I played with his balls and Trupti rolled our tongue around his shaft.

“See…we can do this quickly.” she said in my head. “A little suck suck, a little fuck fuck, and done.”

I mentally nodded and focused on the job at hand.

“I was wondering you would even agree to suck my dick, forget being good at it.” Vernon said. “Indian women always seem so straight-laced and naive. So I am impressed by how good you are. Good job.”

“Oh great, the husband is just as presumptuous sefaköy escort about race and identity as the wife.” I said mentally.

“Who cares? We aren’t marrying him.”

That’s when I heard a slight whooshing sound coming from the door. I looked over and saw a folded paper had been slipped under it.

“Wait, where are you going?” Vernon said as I took the dick out of my mouth and got up.

“Just give me a moment.” I said.

I picked up the piece of paper and opened it. It was a hastily written letter from Malay.

– Let me start by saying I love you. I love you. I love you. Honestly, I think I have loved you from the moment I set eyes on you at that event in Portland. I don’t know if you even remember me. Something told me you were meant for me. And when you finally agreed to date, I was so happy. I thought things have been going great. I thought maybe we are ready to take it to the next level. You are more to me than just a fuck buddy, although the sex is the best I have ever had. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

But I should apologize, because I assumed you felt the same way. I know we had never agreed to be exclusive. But somehow I thought it was implied. Ever since I started dating you, it has only been about you for me. When I found out you have been seeing someone else, it hurt like a punch in the gut.

I am sorry. I love you. If you see this in time, and feel even the slightest bit the same way, I will be having a drink at the bar downstairs. If I hear from you after you’ve sent this guy away, I wil know you feel the same way. If not, I will leave you alone and move on. Forever. Won’t even answer your calls. Because it will be to painful. Please decide soon.

Yours forever,


“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Trupti said and started crumpling the paper.

“Wait!” I stopped her.

“Please don’t tell me you’re swayed by that horseshit?”

“Why is it horseshit? You don’t think he loves me…us?”

“Sure he does. But so what? Through me, you are finally living your life. Why would you want to throw it all away from the first Indian guy who comes along and settle down?”

“So what are you saying…send Malay away and spend the rest of my life having a series of one night stands?”

“Why not?”

“Like this guy Vernon…oh shit Vernon.”

I looked up and saw he had taken his pants off and was walking towards me. He took me in his arms and kissed me, his moist cock tip rubbing against my thigh.

“Let’s go back to the couch.” Trupti said to him, wrapping our hand around a now throbbingly hard old white man dick.

She put one foot on the couch next to his thigh. And put the other hand on his shoulder. That hand had the letter.

“Wait…I just realized something.” I said.

“What?” Vernon said, annoyed.

“Just one moment.”

I stayed like that, one hand around his dick, another on his shoulder, one foot on the couch, another on the floor, my pussy positioned just inches above, waiting to ride him. And started having another internal argument.

“Trupti…you became real soon after Malay talked to me, and I gave him my number.”


“He called me. I couldn’t go out with him as me. I went out as you. Slept with him who knows how many times as you.”


“How do I know you are just the wild experimental side of me wanting to sleep around? Maybe you are the side of me that finally agreed to date Malay. To overcome my hesitation and disdain for him.”

“If that were true, sweetie, you wouldn’t have fucked your way through half of Manhattan on the side.”

“Yes, but none of those stuck…right? None of those showed up at my door and said they love me. Malay did.”

“Okay…fair point. But still, the world is full of Malay’s.”

“I don’t think it is.” I said. “I think he might be the one for me. And I might be pushing him away for the sake of some petty revenge over my boss. I should call him back up and ride him instead of this wrinkly sack of shit.”

“That’s it. I am sick of arguing. I don’t need your permission. Never have before.” she said and my pussy started getting lowered towards the dick.

“Well, I don’t need your permission to NOT fuck this guy.” I said and raised my crotch up again.

“What are you doing?” Vernon said breathlessly.

“Trying to settle something. Give me a moment.” I said, still suspended over his dick.

And I resumed my struggle with Trupti.



Epilogue: As most of you will have figured out by now, this is my erotic tribute to Fight Club, the masterpiece book by Chuck Palahniuk made into a masterpiece movie by David Fincher. I had a lot of fun writing it. Hope you liked reading it.

Have ended it like this on purpose, so you can choose in your own mind how you would like the story to end. In the arms of Malay or riding the bitchy boss’s husband. 🙂

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