1A: Daily Worship Ritual
1A: Daily Worship Ritual
The large dining table in the joint family home was already bustling with noise — Papa reading the newspaper, Mummy serving parathas, and chacha-chachi chatting loudly. Sunlight filtered through the windows as Pooja entered the room like she owned it, wearing a tight sky-blue salwar kameez that hugged her full breasts and wide hips perfectly.
“Rohan! Jaldi aa na, beta,” she called out sweetly, but her eyes had that familiar wicked glint.
Rohan swallowed hard and approached the table. Before he could sit, Pooja’s voice turned commanding.
“Arre, pehle mujhe thoda paani laa. Aur ek plate paratha garam kar ke de.”
As he served her, she stretched her leg under the table and pressed her soft, warm foot against his thigh. While Mummy was busy talking to chachi, Pooja’s toes slowly crept higher, rubbing teasingly against his crotch.
“Kitna slow hai tu,” she said loudly, laughing. “Sach mein, chhote bhai log aise hi hote hain na? Bilkul… chhota sa effort bhi nahi daal sakte.”
The family chuckled at her “joke.” Only Rohan knew the real meaning. Under the table, her foot pressed firmer against his hardening but embarrassingly small bulge.
“Arre waah, Pooja didi,” chacha laughed. “Tu toh apne bhai ko bhi itna control mein rakhti hai.”
Pooja smiled innocently while her toes curled and pressed harder, massaging his tiny erection through his pants.
“Haan chacha, isko thoda discipline chahiye. Warna yeh chhota lund wala sapna dekhta rahega zindagi bhar,” she said casually, taking a bite of paratha as if she hadn’t just delivered a brutal SPH line disguised as sibling banter.
Rohan’s face burned with shame as he stood there serving her, his small dick throbbing helplessly under his elder sister’s foot while the entire family sat just inches away, completely unaware.
Pooja looked up at him with a sweet, mocking smile and whispered just loud enough for only him to hear:
“Ab aur zor se dabaun kya, chhote?”
The front door clicked open around 11 AM. Pooja walked in flushed and glowing, still wearing her tight dance rehearsal outfit — a deep maroon lehenga choli that clung to her sweaty curves. Her midriff was glistening, and her long hair was slightly messy from the energetic shoot. The moment she entered, her eyes locked onto Rohan, who was sitting in the living room pretending to study.
“Rohan! Idhar aa zaldi!” she called out, her voice sweet but commanding.
Without waiting for a reply, she headed straight to her room, leaving the door slightly open — a clear signal. Rohan hesitated for a second before following her inside like an obedient puppy.
The room smelled of her perfume mixed with fresh sweat. Pooja kicked off her high heels with a dramatic sigh and collapsed onto the edge of her bed, stretching her long, smooth legs.
“Uff… bahut thak gayi hoon aaj,” she groaned, wiggling her toes. “Yeh dance shoots meri jaan le rahe hain. Rohan, aa na yahan. Mera pair daba de.”
Rohan closed the door behind him. Pooja immediately pointed at the floor in front of her.
“Ghutno pe baith. Aur achhe se daba. Sweaty hain bahut… lekin tu toh aisa hi pasand karta hai na, chhote?”
She smirked as he knelt down. Her feet were warm, slightly damp from hours of dancing, with a strong, musky scent. Without hesitation, she placed one foot directly on his lap, pressing her soft sole against his crotch.
“Dekh, kitna tight ho gaya already,” she laughed softly, rubbing her foot slowly up and down over his small bulge. “Tera chhota lund itni si baat pe khada ho jata hai? Kitna pathetic hai tu.”
Rohan’s hands started massaging her tired feet, thumbs pressing into her soles while she leaned back on her elbows, watching him with arrogant satisfaction.
“Harder, beta. Aur zor se. Aur haan… thoda muh se bhi saaf kar de aaj. Sweaty bahut hain.”
She lifted her foot higher, pressing her toes directly against his lips.
Pooja leaned back comfortably on her bed, a smug smile playing on her lips as she watched her younger brother kneel before her like a servant.
“Shoes nahi utarega pehle?” she teased, lifting one leg and dangling her high heel in front of his face.
Rohan’s hands trembled slightly as he removed her heels. The moment they came off, a strong, pungent wave of her sweaty feet hit him — warm, salty, and intoxicating after hours of dancing. Her soles were glistening with sweat, toes slightly red from the tight shoes.
Pooja let out a satisfied sigh and immediately planted both feet on his face.
“Chhota lund beta… pehle achhe se massage kar. Phir muh se saaf karna hai.”
Rohan started massaging her soft, damp soles, thumbs pressing deep into her arches. Pooja moaned softly in pleasure, wiggling her toes against his cheeks.
“Haan… aise hi. Bahut achha lag raha hai. Ab jeebh nikaal. Chat properly, warna mummy ko bol dungi ki tu kya karta hai didi ke kamre mein.”
Rohan hesitated for only a second before extending his tongue. The salty, musky taste of her sweaty feet flooded his mouth as he licked from heel to toes. Pooja laughed arrogantly, pressing her foot harder against his tongue.
“Chhota lund beta, mera pair saaf kar properly! Yeh tera kaam hai. Roz kaam hai tera — apni bullish didi ke paseene bhare pair chaatna.”
She switched feet, rubbing the wet sole all over his face, smearing her sweat across his lips and nose.
“Dekh tera chhota lund kitna khada ho gaya hai… bilkul pathetik. Ek pair chaatne se hi control kho deta hai tu. Sach mein, kisi ladki ko kaise satisfy karega tu is chhote lund se? Hamesha mera ghulam hi rahega.”
Pooja’s voice grew huskier as she pushed her big toe into his mouth, making him suck on it like a cock.
“Chus… zor se. Aur andar tak jeebh daal. Mera paseena pi, beta. Yeh teri jagah hai — mere pairon ke neeche.”
Rohan’s face burned with shame and arousal as he licked and sucked every inch of her sweaty feet, the taste and smell completely overwhelming him while his sister watched with pure narcissistic dominance.
Pooja stood up from the bed, stretching lazily. Her salwar kameez was still slightly damp with sweat from the shoot. Without any hesitation or shame, she started undressing right in front of Rohan, who was still kneeling on the floor.
“Arre, kya dekh raha hai? Move mat kar. Dekhta reh,” she ordered with a smirk.
She first pulled off her dupatta, then slowly removed the tight kameez. Her heavy breasts, barely contained in a black lacy bra, jiggled as she tossed the top aside. Next came the salwar. She bent over deliberately, sliding it down her thick thighs and round ass, giving Rohan a full view of her matching black panties clinging to her sweaty skin.
Rohan’s eyes were glued to her body, his small cock painfully hard and throbbing in his pants.
Pooja noticed immediately and let out a loud, mocking laugh.
“Hahaha! Dekh toh sahi apne aap ko. Ek baar meri body dekhi aur tera chhota lund khada ho gaya. Kitna chhota aur bechara hai yaar!”
She stepped closer, still in just her bra and panties, and pressed her foot against his crotch again, feeling his erection.
“Arre wah… yeh toh bilkul chhota sa tent bana diya hai. Sach mein, itna chhota lund leke tu kya sochta hai? Koi ladki isko dekh ke hassegi nahi toh kya karegi?”
Pooja turned around slowly, showing off her ass, then faced him again while unhooking her bra. Her full, round breasts spilled out — nipples dark and hard. She cupped them teasingly, bouncing them lightly.
“Yehi dekh… yeh sab kuch hai meri body mein. Aur tera? Ek chhota sa useless lund jo sirf didi ke pair chaatne se khada hota hai.”
She laughed again, clearly enjoying his helpless stare. Then she bent down, bringing her face close to his while her breasts hung heavy in front of him.
“Matlab tu hamesha aise hi rahega na? Mere saamne ghutno pe, mera badan dekh ke paagal hota hua… lekin kuch kar nahi paayega. Bas chaat-ta rahega mera paseena.”
She straightened up, turned towards her wardrobe, and continued changing into fresh clothes — deliberately slow, enjoying every second of his humiliated, lust-filled gaze.
Author’s Note:
Thank you for reading! ❤️
Hope you enjoyed the beginning of Rohan’s revenge and Pooja’s descent from arrogant bullish didi to corrupted camwhore. This story is going to get much darker, filthier, and more intense as the corruption deepens.
Drop a like, comment your thoughts, and let me know which scene or fetish you want to see more of (foot worship, anal, breeding, gangbang, family risk, etc.) — it helps me write better chapters faster.
The next chapter is coming soon.
DesiRawSmut
