The Gangsters Mistress M&G - 2nd Thread Link P.127 - Page 46

The tears that had once lingered upon the ends of her thick lashes dried up instantly as a smirk erased the desperate image of her innocent trembling gaze. Cocking her head to the side; Geet completed a motion of Matrix moves, dodging the gangster's bullet in slow motion. Whilst she was bending backwards, Geet snaked the hidden gun strapped to her ankles and at last had the advantage of aiming the gun at his arrogant-not-so-smirking-anymore-face.

'My my haven't I ruined my image of being the damsel in distress' Geet purred to Maan with a seductive and sultry tone. His body stiffened in fear as he continued to stare at her in astonishment. Without diverting her aim, Geet used her free hand to retrieve an object from her muddy bag. His eyes were transfixed at the silver jewelry, paling through his tan at the train of her hideous thoughts. 'You actually believed that I would succumb to my knees and beg for my life? Geet challenged, 'well now it's your turn to find out the consequences of trying to shoot and mess with Geet Handa!'

Throwing the silver anklet at the dirt before his feet, Geet recalled Sanjay Dutt's dialogues to Madhuri in 'Sahiba and roared in an exaggerated drunken slur 'NACH!' Hearing the command in her voice, Maan raised his head and whimpered in devastation, eventually bending down to clasp the anklet around his fragile-chicken-legged ankle. Geet roared in laughter, urging him to dance, only to find herself squirming in a warm comfortable bed. Not wanting the dream to end, Geet tried to mentally convince herself to continue with the dream as she wished to see Maan Singh Khurana perform a classical dance, begging her with his twirls to end the agony and humiliation.

To her dismay, reality streamed through like the rays of the sun, causing her to stretch her legs in contentment. Apart from the terrible ache she felt throughout her entire body, Geet could not find herself complaining about the warmth entrapping her. Blinking a tired weary eye open, she looked around the richly furnished room and realized that her courtesan-Maan-dream had shifted to her future married life. Not wishing to disrupt this pleasant dream, Geet admired the quality of her fantasies. So what if she could not find a multi-millionaire in real life! Nobody could stop her from dreaming about it, now could they? Any moment now a servant would come with a tray of food in their hands, offering it to their new master/queen. Geet smiled to herself as she imagined the maid being Maan, polishing her shoes and calling her 'Ma am'.

At once reality began to dawn upon her as she recollected the past events. Her eyes widened in terror as she remembered escaping on the train with the gangster; and then being surrounded by a herd of lustful men. Her mouth gaped open in outrage whilst recalling that the son-of-a-gun had actually shot her! The nerve of him to actually hurt a beautiful, vulnerable and fragile female. Here she was expecting him to do a Matrix move, dodging all the bullets and killing all the men alone with his powerful hands.

"Powerful my butt" she snorted, he was shriveling coward. However as soon as she gathered her thoughts, Geet realized that someone was sleeping beside her in the bed. Narrowing her sleep filled eyes in confusion, Geet felt a hand fondle over her breasts. Eyes threatening to emerge from her sockets, she looked down and noticed a hand placed quite comfortable over her breast. Oh hell no! The adrenalin jerked within her insides; pumping her motivation to beat the harasser into pulp. Twisting her entire body around, Geet found herself facing the very same man whom had shot her only hours ago. Snapping her hands out, regardless of the pain shooting from her shoulder, Geet grabbed onto his hard nipples and pinched it with all her might. Jerking in reaction, Maan's hands tightened on her breasts. Before anyone could be warned, the entire house was filled with her piercing screams.

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Maan's ringing ears hammered onto his skull, causing his eyes to shoot open in surprise. Placing his hands over his ears, Maan stared in confusion at the annoying girl whom was currently displaying her gums to him in a very unladylike like and unattractive manner. 'Shut up!' he roared after his wits came running back. Her only response was to knee him in the crotch, whilst she continued to squeal from the top of her constricted lungs. His temper rose to a dangerous notch, forcing him to forget about her wounds, as he rolled her onto her back and placed his hand over her mouth. 'I said be quiet!' he snapped in a cruel tone. Geet moaned into his hands, the full blown ache of her wounds were now more predominant and painful as ever.

Noticing the cloud of pain misting in her gaze, Maan placed his hand under back and raised her slightly off the bed. Confused at his show of kind treatment when he was the one that had hurt her in the first place, Geet pushed against his chest 'don't touch me!'. Maan's eyes narrowed in slits, propelling him to dump her unmercifully back onto the bed. 'Don't breathe on me' he snapped in response; 'I cannot stand morning breath'. Deeply offended at his insulting words Geet purposely breathed onto his face. 'Take that you perverted prick!' she shrieked as she blew all the smell of her stinky breath onto his disgusted face. Rolling off the bed with ninja fast moves, Maan drew away from her as further as possible.

'I fell asleep you ungrateful chit' he stated, 'I have no intentions of looking at you, let alone touching you'.

'Well you didn't seem to think that way when you were comfortably feeling my chest up only moments ago' she accused.

Maan raised his eyebrows; whilst he found himself staring at her bosom. Gasping in outrage, Geet covered her chest with her arms. 'When I drink my standards tend to lower' he remarked, 'either I had misplaced you as to being my mistress or I had been momentarily confused at touching such a flat surface'. That being said, Maan strolled out of the room, not having the patience nor interest of listening to her reply. Geet on the other hand, did not know whether to be relieved that he had no sexual intentions or to be insulted that he just compared her to his mistress and found her flat chested.

Wincing at the throbbing of her stomach and shoulder, Geet tried to get off the bed; but found that her entire body was weak with fatigue. Standing on trembling legs, she grasped onto the edge of the bed trying to maintain her staggering balance. Panting like a heavily pregnant woman in the midst of giving birth, Geet cursed the day, moment, and time she ever considered herself an admirer of that heartless gangster. Although she was too angry to admit it, common sense warned her that Maan's reaction and decision had been entirely self-less. Closing her eyes in revulsion, she remembered the way the vile men had stared through her clothes as if she were standing nude. Had he not shot her, she would have been raped and killed in much more torturous ways. But then again, had he not forcefully involved her into his mess in the first place; the situation of her being shot wouldn't have even arose! If that man had one attribute of decency and respect; he would have left her calmly in the train and jumped like a gorilla-wannabee-Tarzan on his bloody own!

Walking like the 200 year old Baa did in Kyunki Saas bhi kabhi bahu thi; Geet felt her legs buckle in the middle of the room. Looking around in desperation for something to hold onto; Geet stretched out her arms and held onto mid air. At that awkward pose of arms flaying like a bird trying to use its wings for the first time, Maan decided it was time to walk back into his room, completely oblivious to her struggles. Smiling in relief, Geet called out to him and expected to find him running up to her, and catching her safely in his arms. She was entitled to that kind of treatment after being shot to death; now wasn't she? However to her apparent surprise, Maan walked passed her as she began to topple over onto the ground. With an 'OOF' Geet body slammed onto the ground and inhaled the scent of the floor.

'Your going to need someone your own size to practice your sumo-wrestling moves' Maan commented calmly as he stood against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. By 'Sumo-Wrestling' did he mean the huge fat Japanese men that wrestle and hug one another, with their fleshy buttocks in direct view? Geet's eyes twitched as the full meaning of his words splashed onto her face. 'What do you mean by my own size!?' she snapped, trying to look cool and unaffected whilst laying on the ground, with her nose pinched onto the carpet.

Sighing in impatience, Maan was about to say something when he got interrupted by the door knock. 'Come' he called out, watching the maid walk in with the breakfast tray in her hand. 'Place it on the table' he ordered, 'and do you plan on lying on the ground all day?' he asked, 'If I knew you favored the floor, I wouldn't have allowed you to stain my bed with your presence'.

'I'd get up if I could!' she replied in agony, 'right now my shoulder and stomach is in so much pain that I'm paralyzed'. Curling into a ball, Geet managed to twist onto her side, easing the pressure on her abdomen. 'Oooh getting shot is so painful' she moaned and complained.

'A weak woman; just as expected' he remarked, 'always needing someone to rely on'. That being said, he lifted his legs and stepped over her body, without bothering to offer a hand of support. Turning his head slightly to acknowledge the mute maid, 'Before she is fed, supply her with a toothbrush and toothpaste'. Geet raised her head and death stared him until he was no longer in the room.

To think that she had expected him to have a heart. Had he any feelings of remorse, guilt or sympathy, he would have at least paid her a visit after his departure. But only two days later, she was informed that the Gangster was no longer in the country.

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Made a thread about being a rocker! = D

https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/geet-hui-sabse-parayee/1720602/hell-yeah-if-rocker-finally