Only if: A LOSING GAME (Slow updates)

//Chapter 2//

**TW: SEXUAL, PHYSICAL & CHILD ABUSE**

It might be a little too intense. A very sensitive topic I have breached into. Idk, it might be too hard for some people. Already a warning has been given. Please read at your own discretion.

**DO NOT MISS THE AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Past:

Night. Dark night. Haveli. Huge haveli. Room. Closed room. These, these scared the hell out of him. These were the three things that made his existence next to impossible. His ragged breath added onto all this as the perfect cherry. He wanted to cry, scream, ask for help, even beg for his safety, but he couldn't because he just couldn't. Curled up in the corner of the room, with tears flowing down his cheeks and he blankly watching the dust particles dance in front of that single candle burning in the center of the room, all ready to melt into a puddle of wax in next few minutes, made him realize what a failure he was. Plain shame to his family. Parivaar ka kaala dhabba. 

The screeching sound of the door alerted him about their entry but now he had nothing in him to revolt or fight for. He has now accepted who he was and how he needs to be treated. Just like a rag. He felt someone breathing next to his ear and that strong smell of gutka that flared his nostrils was enough for him to know who it was. She mercilessly spat on him. The pungent smell increased. He could feel the wet paste gliding down his ear and his cheek. He felt disgusted but didn't scrunch or fight, because it was nothing new. She brought her mouth near his cheek and sucked in the the gutka she just spat, lingering a little near the lobe of his ear. He tightly shut his eyes. New set of warm tears pooling behind those closed lids and flowing down. 

"Aye haye mere pyaare dil ke chain! Tu toh ekdum seekh gaya hai re, ki mujhe kaise khush karna hai. Par sach kahu toh jab tu thoda haath paon chalata tha na, thoda ladta tha, thoda jhagadta tha, aur jab tu apne is sundar se mooh se chillata tha, to zyada haseen lagta tha. Uff! Teri jo bechaini jhalakti thi is muh se, mera toh dil jaise baag baag ho jaata tha." She said harshly rubbing her fingers on his lips. She pushed her thumb into his mouth, a signal to suck it. He forcefully swirled his tongue around her thumb giving into her weird temptation. He wanted to puke. He wanted to run but all he could do was just give into their demands. Only if he was strong enough. 

She moaned lightly. "Aree oh Brinda, tumhara agar man ka ho gya ho toh thoda anand hame bhi lene do bhai. Apne pati ko itna tadpaogi aur khud akele mazze lete rahogi? Ye to galat hai." Another murky voice was heard. The plain roughness and that very evident british accent lurking behind was enough for him to know it was Binoy Roy Chaudhary, his baba. Baba? Only if he was one. Only if he cared about him as his son. Only if his maa hadn't left him behind in all this mess. 

He suddenly felt his lower lip being pulled by a set of teeth. The hard pull led onto another cut, joining in the many. Blood oozing out. A harsh pair of hand squeezed his cheeks and his eyes opened on its own accord. There he was, his baba, looking at him menacingly. He watched him swipe the blood from his other hand and suck onto it. Giving him a wink, he brought his face closer and relentlessly kissed his lips, devouring onto it as if he was hungry for years. He felt ashamed. He felt used. He felt like a prop. He felt like a piece of shit. 

Binoy trailed down his neck, marking it with sloppy wet kisses. Giving into his animalistic need, he bit onto the already prominent mark at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Ignoring the wince from that little boy he devoured further below, attacking each and every part of his body. Slyly getting up, he opened the zip of his trousers winking his wife by the side.