Navratri Awakening

The next evening the pandal was even louder. Garba circles spun under strings of fairy lights, the air thick with the smell of jasmine, sweat and frying jalebi. I danced in a new outfit Daddy had chosen: a deep green chaniya choli this time, the blouse cut so low the tops of the silicone breasts nearly spilled out, the lehenga shorter than last night, gold gota borders flashing every time I turned. The same heavy nath hung from my nose, chain linked to my ear, and a fresh gajra of white mogra flowers sat in my open hair.
Daddy watched from the edge of the crowd in a simple black kurta, eyes never leaving me. Every time the dhol quickened he smiled that private, filthy smile that made my cockette throb inside the thin green G-string.
When the aarti ended he didn’t even speak. He simply took my wrist and led me through the side lane back to our building. The lift ride to the 14th floor felt endless. The moment the flat door clicked shut he pushed me against it.
“On your knees, green slut.”
I dropped. The short lehenga flared around my thighs as I opened my mouth. Tonight he was already fully hard, the head glistening. I licked a slow circle around it, tasting the salt, then took him deep until the nose-ring chain pressed against my cheek. He held the back of my head and fucked my throat in short, controlling strokes while the distant beats of the next round of garba floated up from the street.
“Swallow properly… good girl… take every drop of prasad.”
He pulled out before finishing, lifted me, and carried me straight to the bedroom. The lights were dim, only the soft glow of a single diya on the side table. He stripped the green choli off me in one motion, leaving the silicone breasts bare, then flipped the lehenga up and pushed me face-down onto the bed.
Cool lube dripped between my cheeks. Two thick fingers opened me, then three. I moaned into the pillow, the gold bangles on my wrists jingling.
“Tonight Daddy is going to ruin this little Navratri hole properly.”
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance and sank in with one long, relentless thrust. I cried out, the sound muffled by the mattress. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He fucked me hard and deep, the sound of skin meeting skin louder than the dhol outside. Every thrust made the nose-ring chain bounce against my face. My cockette leaked steadily onto the sheets beneath me.
He reached under, wrapped a big hand around my trapped cockette and stroked in time with his hips.
“Come while Daddy breeds you. Come for Mataji and for your Daddy.”
I shattered, body locking, cum spurting uselessly into the G-string while his cock kept pounding through the orgasm. He followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt and flooding my ass with thick, hot ropes. I felt every pulse.
He stayed inside me, breathing hard, kissing the back of my neck.
“Eight more nights, Priya,” he murmured against my skin. “Tomorrow the red one again. The day after, pure white. Then the black one with the silver gota… and every single night this hole belongs to Daddy.”
I turned my head just enough to look at him over my shoulder, lipstick smeared, kajal running, nose ring glinting in the diya light.
“Yes, Daddy… fill me every night until Navratri ends.”
He slowly pulled out, watched his cum leak from my stretched hole, then scooped some of it onto his fingers and pushed it back inside me.
“Keep it in. Walk home like this. Let it drip down your thighs under the lehenga while you sleep. Tomorrow morning I want to see the stains on your sheets.”
I nodded, dazed and thoroughly used.
He cleaned me gently with a warm cloth, helped me back into the green choli and lehenga, adjusted the nath so it sat perfectly again, and walked me to the door.
At the threshold he kissed my forehead once, almost tenderly.
“Jai Mata Di, my little crossdressing daughter.”
“Jai Mata Di, Daddy,” I whispered back.
The lift doors closed on the sight of him standing in the hallway, still half-hard under the kurta, watching me go with that same dark, hungry smile.
Eight more nights.
And every one of them would end the same way.