Sohag Raat With Behan 
 
Naila bit back tears at her heavily made up reflection. With her milky complexion, long, shiny black hair, and large sad eyes lined with kohl, she was the picture of an pakistani bride.  
 
She caught her veil up from the back of her chair, draping it over her hair to study the effect; it was beautful. Her lehanga was beautiful, her makeup was beautiful, everything was beautiful, and yet she couldn't manage to feel even the most fleeting moment of happiness. 
 
She dabbed at her eyes, careful not to smear her kajal. Her gaze moved to the clock. She had another half an hour to an hour before her mother returned and began flitting about her like a hummingbird again. She'd thrown everyone out of the room the moment her mother and aunt had left. Her sister and cousin, both older and already married, had left giggling over her "wedding nerves." 
 
Her bedroom door opened, and as she saw Shahid in the mirror her heart tore in two; half plummeted, and half soared. 
 
"You shouldn't be here," she said quietly, averting her eyes from his as he locked the door behind himself. 
 
Two strong hands slipped under her veil, coming to rest on her shoulders. "I shouldn't be here to wish my chotti sister a happy marriage?" he asked, fingers stroking her shoulders. "And don't you just look the picture of an Pakistani bride, too. So demure in your pretty veil," he said mockingly. 
 
Naila shrugged away from the fingers, causing her veil to slip down. She leaned forward in the chair and tried to reach for her jewellry box, only to be yanked back against the chair. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but he held her still.  
 
This was always the way with Shahid : no care for propriety, or being caught, nor even for her wishes. 
 
"Shahid , we agreed we couldn't do this anymore," she said in a diplomatic tone. 
 
He leaned down and bit her neck. He raised his mouth to her ear: "No, we didn't agree. If you'll recall, you said we couldn't do this anymore. I said, 'I see.'" 
 
His hot breath in her ear scattered her thoughts. She tried to maintain her resolve, but it began to dissipate at the touch of his lips to her neck. His tongue traced over her quickening pulse, and her breathing became shallow and her mind unfocused. A hand slid down her back, deftly unlacing the ties of her choli. 
 
"Shahid, stop! It's my wedding day, for God's sake!" she exclaimed, trying to struggle to her feet. 
 
His fingers bit into the dips of her shoulders as he shoved her back down. "How could I forget?" He stroked her neck.  
 
She tried to ignore the goosebumps that rose in the wake of his gently stroking fingertips. Tried to deny that he could make her want him so easily. 
 
"So, Naila , looking forward to your wedding night?" he asked, a thread of malice creeping into his tone. His hand slipped inside her choli to capture a breast, kneading it roughly. 
 
"Stop it," she commanded weakly. 
 
He ignored her, continuing to palm her breast, lifting and moulding it with his callused workman's hands. 
 
"Tell me, Naila. Are you looking forward to having him between your legs?" his voice dropped to a whisper, "Inside your choot?" He twisted her nipple hard. 
 
Naila didn't respond, only panted shallowly. He'd trained her to enjoy the pain, turned her into a fiend for it. She arched her breast toward him, refusing to acknowledge with words that she wanted it. 
 
Shahid withdrew his hand and stepped around the chair to face her. He braced his hands on either side of her so she couldn't escape.  
 
"His skin is even whiter than yours. How much cream do you think he puts on each day to make it so white? A little bit feminine, don't you think?" he grinned, trailing a dark fingertip along her pale collarbone. 
 
"Pissed off because you have the skin of a peasant?" she snapped. 
 
Shahid just laughed. "Oh yeah. You know me, always obsessing about my skin and shit."  
 
He reached down, grabbing a handful of her lehanga, slowly winding it around his hand and baring her legs to his gaze.  
 
"How far up does you have shaved your legs?" he asked, noting that she have shaved her legs up to her thighs,  
 
His gaze was so hot it nearly incinerated her. She averted her eyes, but could still feel his eyes burning into her wherever they touched. Her skirt came up around her waist, and her pussy clenched as he stared at her with pure male appreciation. 
 
He hauled the lehanga upward, and she went with it, trying to keep it from unwrapping. He gave one sharp tug, and the lehanga button loosened then fell to pool at her feet. He tugged at the already loosened choli, freeing her breasts, She stood before him completely nude, wrapped only in the winding vines of henna in her hands. 
 
"Very nice," he said in a thick voice. 
 
His eyes travelled along over her jism. He took in every inch of her body while she simply stood there before him, awaiting his move. 
 
Her bara bhai was an overwhelming presence, and he controlled her. Completely. Absolutely.  
 
When he'd decided he wanted her, he'd taken her, and since then he'd done so whenever he wanted. He steamrolled over her protests and did whatever he felt like with her. Even on her wedding day, the day she would become another man's wife, mother to his children, she was still her brother's whore. 
 
"Touch yourself for me," he said softly, his tone brooking no argument. 
 
She reached up to cup her breasts, trailing her fingers along the undersides, causing her nipples to harden. She twisted her nipples, noting with satisfaction the heat of his gaze. 
 
She continued toying with one nipple while she reached down with the other hand, running her fingers over her neatly trimmed patch. She delved one finger between her legs, sliding it along her clit and rubbing back and forth. She spread her legs slightly, allowing him a better view as she plunged one finger inside herself, rubbing her clit with her thumb. She removed the finger, bringing it up to her lips to clean it off with her tongue. 
Sohag Raat With Behan (part 2) 
 
Shahid stepped forward and grabbed her roughly, picking her up by the waist and carrying her over to her dresser. Naila flinched at the feeling of the cool wood on her hot skin. 
 
He leaned in to kiss her, as with everything else he did, with no gentleness. He conquered her mouth, finding and dominating her tongue with his. He reached between them, rubbing her clit with his thumb in circular motions.  
 
"Tell me you're going to enjoy it when he fucks you tonight," he said harshly. 
 
Naila couldn't think as he shoved two fingers inside her choot. "Shahid ..." she moaned. 
 
"Tell me that, and I'll leave you alone." He stroked his fingers in and out of her choot rubbing his thumb in time with them, driving her insane. 
 
She felt tears form in her eyes. "You know I can't say that." 
 
"Why?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 
 
"Because I only want you," she said tremulously.  
 
She threw back her head as he began rubbing his thumb around her clit harder, thrusting his fingers faster. His thick fingers filled her small choot, sliding along inside her with their callused tips. 
 
She spread her legs wide for him, leaning back and enjoying the fingers moving inside her. She propped her heels up on the dresser, completely open to him, to whatever he wanted to do with her. 
 
Suddenly the fingers were yanked away. Just as Naila was about to express her disappointment, she felt the soft tip of his hard lora rubbing up and down along her choot. She watched and waited hungrily, but he didn't push inside her. 
 
"Put it in please," she moaned. 
 
"Who are you going to think of when you're fucking your husband tonight?" he growled, taunting her by dipping just the head of his cock in her clasping pussy. 
 
"You!" she answered without hesitation. 
 
He smiled and plunged home, burying himself inside her. Her wet pussy gripped him, trying to pull him in further even though he was touching her cervix. He began long, slow strokes, fucking her with a casualness that belied their situation. 
 
Naila leaned back, bracing herself with one hand and bringing the other up to pinch and twist her nipple. She smiled breathlessly at Shahid's enraptured look. 
 
"You like that, maray bhai?" she asked silkily, twisting her nipple hard and spasming around his lun. 
 
He slammed his motta lun into her hard. "I like that," he concurred.  
 
Naila moaned as he leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth, gently teething and lapping at it. His mouth at her nipple and his cock pushing inside her cunt set her on fire, burning from her breasts to her toes. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her deeper. 
 
She held his head to her breast as her pussy quivered around him. She urged him on with the legs she'd wrapped around him, trying to bring him further and harder inside her. 
 
He began quickened thrusts, and Naila knew then that he was less in control than he'd been trying to appear. He was going to cum soon, and much as she wanted to feel him splash his sperm inside her one last time, she couldn't. 
 
"Shahid , you can't cum inside me. I went off the pill," she panted. 
 
He smiled at her and reached between them, stroking her clit with his thumb. "I can and I'm going to," he said, quickening his pace. "The first baby that grows inside you is going to be mine, mari behan." 
 
Her mind had barely been clinging to enough willpower to say it once, there was no way she had enough to argue with him. She wanted it, too. Shahid's baby growing inside her, suckling at her breast, playing at her feet. Her pussy milked him for his seed, a manifestation of her desires. 
 
His cock swelled to the point she thought it might burst, so ready to create that life inside her. His hips slammed into her over and over, rocking the dresser back against the wall. The hazy thought floated through her mind that they might be making too much noise, but she was far past caring. 
 
"You want it, too, Naila . Say it!" he growled. 
 
She abandoned the pretense of caring for what was right: "I want your babies, Shahid mari jaan maray bhai!" 
 
He ground her clit hard with his thumb, pain lacing the pleasure. "Tell me who owns you." 
 
Naila's hips jerked. "You do!" 
 
He owned her with his pounding cock, with his stroking hands, with the brute force of his personality, he bridged their age gap and subjugated her. Whatever he told her when he touched her, when he fucked her like this, his word became law. 
 
He buried his face in her neck, shoving himself deep inside her, parting the tip of her cervix as he shot hot sperm inside her. His hips jerked as he pumped, finally emptying himself of every last drop within his sister. 
 
He caught her by the chin and kissed her roughly. 
 
Naila looked at the clock and frantically shoved him away. "I have to get my lehanga back on, Shaid . Fuck! If you wrinkled it, I'm gonna kick your ass!"  
 
Shahid watched on amusedly as she slipped on her lehanga and choli in a urgency. He walked over and pushed her hands away, closing her choli buttons. 
 
His heart ripped as she once again became the vision of an Pakistani bride. 
 
He grabbed her by the chin again, clamping it between steel fingers. "Listen to me, Naila, while we're still alone," he spoke in Punjabi "You are marrying this man," he spat, "Today, by law and tradition and the view of our community, you belong to him now." 
 
"But know this," he continued, stroking his thumb along her jaw, "Whatever others think or believe or tell you, you belong to me. I own you. No marriage will change that. Your babies will come from me. I will fuck you whenever I want. In every sense of the word except in regards to appearances, you will be mine. Understand?" he asked, looking at her intently. 
 
Naila nodded slowly. All she could do was acknowledge the truth; he did own her, and she could never stop him from taking what was his. 
 
"Good," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her. 
 
A loud pounding at the door broke the moment. 
 
"Naila ! Naila !" her mother called frantically. "Hurry up and open this door! We have to get you ready!" 
 
Shahid crossed over and unlocked the door, smiling at his mother and kissing her on the cheek as she regarded him suspiciously. 
 
"Why was the door locked?" Sadia asked, eyes narrowed. 
 
Shahid smiled indulgently. "Because I came to give my sister advice before she goes off to her new home with her husband, and I didn't want anyone to interrupt. I thought she could do with a modern male point of view," Shahid said, wrapping an arm around their mother. 
 
"God only knows what you told her!" Sadia said laughingly. 
 
Shahid feigned hurt. "I simply told her to be obedient, to care for her man's every need, and to remember who she belongs to now," he said, looking at Naila who remained silent. 
 
Suadia cocked her head. "That is surprisingly good advice, coming from you." She turned to Naila . "For once, you should listen to your brother." 
 
Naila looked up sharply. 
 
Shahid grinned at her. "Be good, chotti behan ," he said, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.