**Her Resistance**

I’d watched Nandini from the first day she walked into the village panchayat office—her big, nervous eyes, the way her fingers twisted the edge of her sari when she spoke. She was so young, barely out of school, sent here to file some paperwork for her family’s land dispute. And me? I was Manik, the sarpanch, the man everyone in this village respected—or feared.

That day, I made sure she had to come back. Delayed her paperwork, invented issues that needed her signature. She was too innocent to realize the game.

Tonight, she was in my office again, the last one here after I dismissed the others early. The fan creaked overhead, the dim bulb casting shadows over her flushed face.

“Manik-ji, please,” she whispered, biting her lip as I stepped closer, my body crowding her against the desk. “I need to go home.”

I didn’t answer, just slid a hand up her arm, feeling the way she shivered. Her skin was warm, soft. “You stay until I say you can leave,” I murmured, my breath hot against her ear.

She tried to push me back, her small hands pressing weakly against my chest. “No… this isn’t right—”

I caught her wrists, pinned them above her head. Her breath hitched, her chest rising fast under her thin blouse. My other hand slid down her waist, gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. “You think I don’t see how you look at me when you think I’m not watching?” I growled.

She shook her head, but her thighs pressed together, betraying her. I shoved her sari up, my fingers finding the wet heat between her legs. She gasped, her whole body jerking when I rubbed her pussy through her panties. “You’re already soaked,” I chuckled, pressing harder. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I-I don’t—” she whimpered, but when I slipped a finger under the fabric, tracing her slit, her protest turned into a moan.

I tore her panties off, not bothering to be gentle. She cried out, but I ignored it, grabbing her thigh and forcing her legs apart. Fuck, she was tight—her pussy pink and glistening, her clit swollen under my thumb. I spit on my fingers and pushed two inside her, making her arch off the desk.

“Manik-ji, please—ah!” Her nails dug into my arm as I fucked her with my fingers, curling them just right to make her squirm.

“Beg for it,” I demanded, unzipping my pants with my free hand. My cock was rock-hard, aching. “Tell me you want my dick inside you.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes but her hips rocking against my hand. “No, no, I can’t—!”

I shoved my fingers deeper, watching her face twist with pleasure. “Liar.”

When I pulled my fingers out, she whimpered at the loss, but I didn’t let her think—just grabbed her hips and yanked her to the edge of the desk. The head of my cock rubbed against her entrance, and she sobbed, her nails scratching at the wood.

“Say it,” I growled, pushing just the tip in.

She gasped, her cunt clenching around me. “Y-yes… yes, please!”

I slammed the rest of the way inside in one brutal thrust. She screamed, her back arching, her pussy squeezing me like a vice. “Fuck!” I groaned, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise. She was so fucking tight, so wet, her walls fluttering around my cock as I started to move.

Her moans were broken, half protests, half pleas. “Too—too big—”

I fucked her harder, her tits bouncing with every thrust, her little cries filling the room. “You love it,” I grunted, slamming into her deeper. “Fucking take it.”

She came with a sob, her pussy pulsing around me, her legs shaking. I didn’t stop—just kept pounding into her, my balls slapping against her ass.

When I came, I buried myself to the hilt, filling her up as she whimpered beneath me.

I pulled out slowly, watching my cum drip from her pussy. She was a mess—her sari torn, her thighs sticky.

I smirked, tucking myself back in. “You’ll be back tomorrow.”

She didn’t argue.