Truly awesome, outstanding yr):
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Adultery The Language of Her Heart
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08-08-2025, 03:03 PM
Very nice awesome update..... Slow burn yet a little fast.... Exactly like the way I had thought... Pavi is struggling with herself..... She likes to dominate and being touched which gets her wet..... Every detail in the story whether Pavi cooking or wearing clothes or Prakash making tea.... Even the shifting of cylinder..... Can't wait for another rocking update.....
Please update soon
Val
08-08-2025, 10:17 PM
EPISODE 129 & EPISODE 130
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His fingers were still there. Still inside. Still inside my navel. Still rubbing. Still teasing. That same slow circle. That same deep press. That same heat. Still spreading. Still whispering through my body. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my moan? Ayyyo… that sound… That stupid shameless sound… Still floating. Still hanging in the air between us. Like some naughty fly. Hovering. Refusing to disappear. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I bit my lip. Pressed tight. Just to stop more sound. Closed eyes once. Only one second. Then opened again. Looked at him. Looked at his hand. Looked at that damn finger. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Enough,” I said. My voice was not normal. Not soft. Not angry. Just rough. Like gravel. “Remove hand.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t. He didn’t even blink. His fingers stayed. Still in that small soft dip. Still circling. Still rubbing. Still pressing. Still claiming. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I twitched. My stomach flinched. My thighs pulled together again. More tightly. More desperate. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Oi… remove it.” Still no reply. No sorry. No stop. Just that same slow movement. As if my body was not mine. As if my stomach was his toy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I gritted teeth. Raised my hand. Grabbed his wrist. Fingers wrapping around his bone. Pulled. Once. Twice. No use. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He wasn’t holding tight. But he wasn’t letting go. It was like his fingers had melted into my skin. Like they belonged there. And my belly? That shameless traitor? It was trembling again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Why it’s not moving?” I hissed. “Are you stuck?” He looked at me. Quiet. Still. One eyebrow lifted slightly. Just one. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think you’re very smart now, ah?” I asked. “Keeping your hand in my stomach like it’s some chocolate box?” Still no answer. Only that calm stare. Only that warm hand. Still teasing. Still rubbing. Still playing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I pulled again. No use. His grip was not fighting me. But it wasn’t leaving me. That palm… It was enjoying. Fully. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Fingers gliding softly around the rim. Pressing near the nerve spots. Right near the edge. So close to my panty line. So close to madness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think it’s dough?” I snapped. “Kneading dough?” Still silent. Not a single word. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared harder. Face burning now. Ears heating. My own body heating more than gas stove. “You’re pressing like it belongs to you.” I couldn’t stop those words. They came like truth. Ugly. Naked. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I snapped. Like real. Snapped like belt. Raised my other hand. Left one. Slap hand. Finger stiff. Ready. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Now I’ll fix you.” I swung. Hard. Sharp. Fast. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But suddenly— He moved. He caught it. Mid-air. Like it was nothing. Like I was throwing a flower. Not a slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His other hand — his left — Reached up. Caught my wrist. Stopped it. Held it. Right there. Frozen. My whole body froze with it. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Shock. Real shock. He didn’t look scared. Not even surprised. Just quiet. Just still. Just calm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His right hand — still inside my navel. Still teasing. Now with thumb going slow circle. More sensual. More steady. More dangerous. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And his left hand — Holding my right wrist. Not tight. Not hurting. Just stopping. Like saying, “enough.” Like saying, “I won’t let you leave now.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And me? I was stiff. Still. Frozen. I had no words. No movement. Just eyes. Just shock. Just heat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t say anything. Didn’t explain. Didn’t remove hand. Just held. Held both parts of me. My belly. My wrist. My body. My control. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared at him. He stared back. Both breathing. Both silent. But I was the one shaking. Soft. From inside. My spine. My chest. My core. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Eh… Prakash…” I whispered. It just came out. Like whisper in dream. Like fear mixed with ache. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe louder. Only kept doing. Kept touching. Kept holding. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And I— I was trembling. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Hey…” I said sharply. “Leave my hand.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - No reaction. No movement. No reply. Only breath. Soft. Steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His left hand was still holding my wrist. Not tight. Not violent. But firm. Like lock made of skin. Like gentle rope. Wrapped around me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His right hand? That one was still inside my navel. Still rubbing. Still exploring. Still playing. Like a slow chef checking rice. Like he wanted to learn every line of my belly. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash,” I said again. Voice sharper now. Louder. “Leave.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his fingers didn’t stop. That same slow circle. That same teasing stroke. That same thumb pressing edge. My stomach fluttered. Like butterfly wings caught in breeze. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I said leave!” This time I snapped. My throat dry. Breath hot. But he blinked. Just once. Came back to senses. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He let go of my wrist. Quickly. Softly. As if realising something. But that other hand… Still didn’t move. Still resting inside my navel like it belonged there. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I narrowed my eyes. Face hot. Not just from anger. From that sticky heat deep under my saree. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I lifted my hand. Slap ready. PAK! Right on his cheek. Tight. Sharp. Straight across. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face turned slightly. But no flinch. No gasp. No step back. Only his fingers moved — just a little. Still resting gently inside that soft, hot navel dip. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Enough,” I growled. Teeth clenched. Eyes narrow. “Take your hand back.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no reply. Only quiet. Only air moving between us. Only his skin pressing mine. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t act deaf.” Still nothing. His hand didn’t move. Like it had decided. Like it had forgotten what I was saying. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash!” I said again, louder. “I’m not asking. I’m ordering.” He looked at me. Just once. That calm stare. No guilt. No fear. Just… steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But that hand… Still there. Still quiet. Still warm. Still curved against my stomach like it knew the shape already. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I had enough. Grabbed his wrist. Twisted once. Pulled it out. Fast. My skin shivered from the absence. My stomach felt empty suddenly. Cold. Sticky. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Even my breath had changed. Heated. Unsteady. Confused. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He stepped back slightly. Just one foot. Hands falling to sides. Still close. But not touching now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I adjusted my saree edge. Tugged it tight. Smoothed the pleats over my navel. Cleared throat once. Then stood straight. Lifted my chin. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ahhh…” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you’re showing guts, ah?” Still he didn’t speak. Just stood. Just watched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his eyes… They answered. That one small flash. Not dirty. Not scared. Just bold. Just sure. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I slapped you twice, scolded you ten times, still you came and touched me.” He didn’t argue. Didn’t excuse. Didn’t bow head. Just… stood there. Still. Still strong. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “And now what? You think you’ve become tiger?” I waited. Still nothing. But his silence was heavier now. Not weak. Just full. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - So I smirked. Mocking. “You think you’re strong?” Still no answer. Only breath. Only that steady male scent in the air. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “But max your guts can do…” I leaned forward. Just enough for him to feel my breath. “…is touching. That’s all.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His eyes followed mine. Calm. Focused. Not scared. Not shy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You can’t do anything more. You don’t have the balls.” Still he stood. And that bulge? Still there. Still full. Still throbbing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I scoffed. “Stiff thing under pant doesn’t mean power.” He blinked. Once. Slow. But didn’t reply. Didn’t back off. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I raised my hand again. Same hand. Same slap. “Let me remind you who’s boss.” I swung— Fast. Confident. Sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But he caught it. Again. Mid-air. This time — smoother. Like dance. Like reflex. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His palm closed around my wrist. Firm. Certain. Then my other hand came — left. Ready to slap. Quick. He caught that too. Fast. Blocked. Now both my wrists — locked. One in each of his hands. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I tried to jerk free. “Eh! What are you doing?” But no answer. No movement. Only stare. Only breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— He joined my wrists together. Pressed them close. Wrapped one single hand — his right — around both. Strong. Big. Tight. Like rope made of bone. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I struggled slightly. “Tchhh! I said—” But he didn’t wait. He moved. His left hand — free now — Came up. Fast. Firm. Pressed my shoulder. Pushed. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I gasped. My feet moved back. One step. Two. Then— THUD. My back hit the kitchen counter. Right at the edge. Lower back pressing against the wood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Both my hands still locked. Tied in his fist. Chest rising. Breath catching. Eyes wide. Navel still tingling from earlier. Body stuck. Fully. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And he— He just stood there. One step close. One inch from me. No shaking. No talking. Still calm. Still close. Still silent. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I was still pinned. Back pressed against the kitchen counter edge. My spine touched the wood. Cool. Hard. A little too straight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my hands? Still locked. Fingers folded, wrists joined, trapped tight in his one thick grip. His palm was warm. Broad. And my wrist bones? They felt small. Like thin bangles inside his fist. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But my breath? Ayyo… my breath was misbehaving. Full tight chest. Each inhale heavy. Deep. Not scared breath. Not angry breath. But something else. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because something was happening. Not outside. Not on the skin. But inside. Inside belly. Inside chest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like something wild was waking up. Not like monster. More like animal. Not angry. But… hungry. Warm. Curling in my stomach. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And somehow… Ayyo, somehow it felt right. Like this was where I was supposed to be. Like his hand was not capturing. It was holding. It was grounding. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared at him. Right in the eyes. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And him? He stared right back. Full stillness. But that look… It wasn’t teasing. Not now. It wasn’t shy. Not scared. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Just bold. Fully bold. Not proud. Not arrogant. Just sure. Like he had waited long enough. And now he was answering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Answering what? All those scoldings. All those games. All those slaps. All those half-invites, half-threats. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— His hand moved. Not the one holding my wrists. That one stayed. Still wrapped. Still tight. Still firm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was the other hand. His left. It slid down. From my waist. To my lower back. Slow. Heavy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then lower. Under the saree pleats. That warm hand slipped right above my backside curve. Ayyo. That line. That border between modesty and madness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Eh—what are you doing—!” I gasped. But even my own voice? It was late. Too late. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because with one motion— He lifted. His hand pressed. Bent his knees. Then straightened. And I? I went up. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like pillow. Like cloth bundle. Like one sack of rice. But not rough. Not careless. It was full control. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I jerked. Slight jerk. Feet kicked once in air. “Aahhh!” I shouted. “Are you mad!” But he didn’t answer. Didn’t smile. Didn’t explain. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He just turned. Just shifted. One step. Then he placed me down. On the kitchen counter. Sat me. Flat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - My backside hit the surface. Cold! Back of my thighs touched steel. My knees bent softly. Legs parted just enough to fold. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Saree fell loose at the sides. Pleats dropped. One end touched the drawer handle. Hair bounced. Pallu slipped. My shoulder was half-bare now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And I? I just sat. Stunned. Like one child who got caught stealing mango from temple tree. “What you think of yourself!” I shouted. “Lifting me like box!” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no answer. Not even blink. And then— He let go. Of my hands. Freed them. Both wrists. Free. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But I didn’t slap. Didn’t escape. Didn’t push him. I just sat. Breathing. Heart hammering like carpenter on Diwali night. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And then— He touched my pallu. One finger. Then two. At my hip. Soft. Slow. Almost polite. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He started pulling. Just the edge. Not jerking. Not forcing. Just sliding. Uncovering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The fabric moved. Like silk obeying his fingers. My navel — already open from earlier — looked more bare now. More visible. More… helpless. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Hey…” I whispered. Voice soft. Weak. He didn’t even glance up. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face was coming closer. Down. Down. Bending toward my stomach. My breath paused. My spine arched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash… don’t you dare…” I warned. But my voice? It didn’t sound powerful. It sounded… pleading. Begging. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t reply. Didn’t blink. Just came closer. Nearer. Then— His lips touched. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Right on my navel. One kiss. Hot. Wet. Direct. Right on that centre dip. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Aaaahhh…” It came out. Loud. No control. Not breath. Not whisper. Full moan. From deep stomach. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “God…” I whispered. “Why are you doing this to me…” But he didn’t lift. Didn’t answer. Didn’t stop. His lips stayed there. Pressed. Warm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Two full seconds. Then he pulled back. Slow. Like prayer ending. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And my brain? It screamed. “I came to control myself.” “I prayed.” “No men.” “No cock.” “No temptation.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Now look. Sitting on kitchen counter. Like one vegetable for inspection. And this watchman? Kissing my stomach like it’s puja bell. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I cursed inside. “God… reverse therapy ah?” “I asked for strength. You’re sending pleasure?” What punishment is this? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But he didn’t care. Still focused. Fully. He bent again. Same spot. Another kiss. Second one. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This time? More pressure. More heat. Like the first one was test. This was devotion. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “AAHHHH…” I cried out. Head tilted back. Eyes half-closed. My hands? Not pushing. Just gripping counter edge. Tight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Prakash!” I snapped. Scolding voice. “What is this nonsense?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t smile. Didn’t stop. And I? I didn’t move. Didn’t stop him. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because it was too much. Too good. Too shameful. Too perfect. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And his mustache… Ayyo that mustache. It was scratching softly. Tiny pricks. Right on the navel rim. That sensitive rim. That stupid sensitive rim. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Why you’re using mustache like some broom?” I breathed. Still no reply. Just his warm breath on my stomach. Still playing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And now— He leaned again. Lips coming. Mustache tickling already. Closer. Closer. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His third kiss… Just about to land. And me? I was tensed. I was throbbing. I was waiting. Like full body was one nerve. One drum. Beating. Beating. Waiting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I walked straight to him. No hesitation. No fear. One sharp step. Then another. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And SMACK! Both hands. Flat palms. Right on his chest. Pressed in. Firm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What do you think you are?” I shouted. No breath. No softness. Just full volume. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He took it. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Only stared. Straight. Face blank. But eyes? They were soft. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then he opened mouth. Voice quiet. “…Madam…” One word. Like whisper. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What?” I snapped. Voice sharp. Hands still on his chest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You said… to show guts…” He said. I frowned. “So?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I thought… maybe you’ll like…” That soft voice again. No arrogance. Just honesty. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ohhh! So now you’re doing psychology?” I asked. Mocking. Teeth showing. Eyes wide. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam… I just…” He stopped. Didn’t finish. Didn’t argue. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “If I say bark, will you bark?” I snapped. Eyebrows lifted. Face full angry queen. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He paused. Swallowed. Then softly— “Maybe, madam…” One whisper. Not joke. Not smile. Just true. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I slapped him. One small one. Not harsh. But enough to sting. Right on the cheek. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Idiot,” I said. Face still close. “If I say anything, you’ll do it ah?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He nodded. Simple nod. “Yes madam.” One sentence. One truth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Dog.” I said. One word. He didn’t speak. Didn’t deny. Didn’t blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But his eyes? They said everything. And my pussy? Ayyo. It twitched. Sharp. Strong. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like it liked that word. Like it wanted to hear it again. Like it understood this man. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I took breath. One full one. Chest lifted. Saree pleats shifted again. Navel moved slightly. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then I stepped forward. Real close. Closer than before. Tip of my nose just near his cheek. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Lips beside his mouth. Not touching. But almost. Breath mixing. Heat hanging. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Tell me one thing…” I whispered. He turned. Slow. Eyes watching me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Face still blank. No smile. No fear. Only attention. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “What will you do,” I said, “if I don’t say anything?” His eyebrows moved. Tiny movement. I tilted head. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Nothing. No rules. No words. No orders.” I said. Slow. Each word dripping. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You can do anything you want…” I whispered. Warm air touching his lips now. “So… what will you do?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He swallowed. Soft. Didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe louder. Just stood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I watched him. For two seconds. Then I started laughing. Loud. Sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’re scared, right?” I said. Still laughing. That mock in my voice. “Poor fellow.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Whole boldness vanished.” Then— THWACK! One tight slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Down. Right on the cock. Flat palm. Over the uniform pant. Sharp sound. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He jolted. Body jumped slightly. Eyes went wide. But no sound. No word. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Know your limits,” I snapped. Tone hard. Chin lifted. “Don’t overact.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Silence. Thick. Still. Then softly— “…Madam…” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Haan?” I replied. Quick. Sharp. But curious. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked down. Then up again. Eyes steady. Mouth calm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Can I do anything?” He asked. Plain question. No game. No trick. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared. Mouth open. Slightly. Then scoffed. Sharp breath out. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Ohhh… now you’re asking questions?” I said. One eyebrow lifted. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped forward. One inch. Maybe two. Now our chests were almost touching. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I raised my chin. Eyeline sharp. “You got that much guts now, ah?”
08-08-2025, 10:21 PM
Wish the wimp husband die soon, so that this bitch can lead a happy life with prakash without any guilt.
09-08-2025, 03:51 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-08-2025, 04:35 PM by val.coutinho. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
What an update madam, slow but very hot.... She's going to finally give in.... The lingering in their talks, bodily touch.... Taunting.... All the actions between them.... Now it's time for the first kiss between them.... Looking at the temperature rise in the house between Prakash and Pavi.... I think it's time for them to share their first kiss..... With the permission of Pavi.....
Eagerly awaiting for the next update.
Val
09-08-2025, 08:36 AM
The story is going like a slow poison
09-08-2025, 10:51 AM
Omg i think things are heating up btw Prakash and Pavitra, waiting for unfold ;)
09-08-2025, 05:14 PM
Idle mind is devil's paradise. When women don't have any work, this is what they do?
09-08-2025, 05:24 PM
Looks like hero of the story is Prakash as he started as submissive man and slowly changing to dominant. Soon he will fuck her in every room of her house.
09-08-2025, 10:25 PM
Author’s Note & Disclaimer
Thank you for reading Language of Her Heart. This is a work of fiction, told entirely from Pavitra’s point of view, exploring her emotions, relationships, and desires. Some upcoming chapters will include consensual force-play, BDSM, and other power-exchange kinks. These are purely fictional and portrayed within the fantasy context of the story. Pavitra’s journey involves exploring and enjoying sexual experiences she has not received from her husband — carefully, without getting caught or noticed. This does not mean she will join with every man she meets. Her choices are part of her personal exploration, not an open invitation to anyone in the story. If you do not enjoy these themes, please stop reading rather than criticizing the main characters or their relationship. You are welcome to keep your own fantasies and interpretations to yourself, or create your own stories if you have different ideas. Persistent personal attacks towards main character will only discourage me from continuing this series. — Yazhiniram
09-08-2025, 11:15 PM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer
09-08-2025, 11:54 PM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer Dear Madam/Author I have no doubts on your writing skills and so far I'm loving the updates that you have given. With negative comments there are positive comments too.... Don't demotivate yourself.... Please continue the story and keep writing the way you have, there's actually no need to stop the story and I'm also sorry if I have unknowingly written/commented on anything that has hurt your feelings or about the story. Please forgive the mistakes and continue
Val
10-08-2025, 12:57 AM
(09-08-2025, 10:25 PM)yazhiniram Wrote: Author’s Note & Disclaimer People will comment whatever they feel like, both positive and negative... As an author you have every right to post your story they way you have perceived it and written it. Don't care about readers who don't understand it and unnecessarily post useless comments. Just go with what you have in mind. Always remember that you cannot please everyone, there will always be many sorry faces on the way...especially of people who don't understand your story the right way. So Ignore and carry on with what you have in mind and have written already... We all support you and will always stand by you
10-08-2025, 01:37 AM
(10-08-2025, 12:57 AM)sexypreeti Wrote: People will comment whatever they feel like, both positive and negative... Very well replied Preeti..... I too support this and you... Yazhiniram please continue.... It's a wonder story that your writing
Val
10-08-2025, 09:58 AM
(09-08-2025, 11:54 PM)val.coutinho Wrote: Dear Madam/Author I’m always open to hearing different takes on Pavitra’s choices — even critical ones — as long as they’re shared constructively. Suggestions, alternate interpretations, and even disagreement can be helpful. What I’m not okay with is feedback that crosses into degrading language about the main character or her relationships. That kind of tone takes the discussion away from the story itself and makes it harder for me — and others — to enjoy the exchange.
10-08-2025, 10:17 AM
He didn’t speak.
Not one word. Just nodded. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Once. Small. Like scared student saying yes to angry teacher. Like one tiny agreement to save life. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I looked at him. Face straight. Eyes hard. Then— I burst out laughing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “HAHAHA—oh god…” My hand came up. Clapped once. Palm to palm. Sharp sound in kitchen. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You don’t have work, ah?” I asked. Still laughing. Mocking. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still silence. He didn’t defend. Didn’t excuse. Just stood. Like wall painting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’re supposed to be at the gate,” I said. “Watching dogs and autos.” “Not inside my kitchen, doing this comedy.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Finally— His voice came. Soft. “No madam… I asked Guru to cover for me.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I blinked. One sharp blink. “Oh ho!” My head tilted. “So Guru is now your assistant?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam… just cover.” “We usually do for each other.” His voice still soft. Still polite. Like trying not to get another slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Hmmmmm…” I said. Dragging the sound. Lips tight. Voice flat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “So this is what you call ‘cover’ work?” I raised eyebrows. Gave full college principal look. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked confused. Head tilted slightly. Like goat hearing English song. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I pointed to myself. One firm finger. “This is your job now?” “Come inside others home…” “Talk with housewives…” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Stare at them…” “Kiss navel…” “Stand like hero?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam…” He said quickly. “I don’t do like this anywhere…” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Every house in apartment, you’re doing this programme?” “Or only mine?” I asked. Sharp voice. Faster words. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam.” He said. “Only here. Only because—” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Because what?” I snapped. Eyebrows raised. One step forward. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He stopped. Didn’t speak. Didn’t finish. Mouth open half-inch. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I laughed again. “Ohhh ho ho.” Louder this time. “Secrets now?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No secret madam…” He said. Quick. Soft. Like damage control. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You better not.” I hissed. Voice dropping. “Otherwise I’ll cut your cock and feed it to street dogs.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam… I’m good.” He said. Fast breath. Eyes lowering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Good?” I repeated. Tilting head. Mocking smile. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Yes madam.” He said. “I swear.” Voice honest. Almost stupidly honest. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I looked at the clock. Wall one. Plain round face. Needles ticking. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 8:21. He came at 8. I remembered. Sharp. Clear. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Twenty minutes,” I said. Eyes still on clock. Then on him. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He blinked. Small blink. Not sure what’s coming. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’ve been standing in my flat for twenty minutes.” I said. Each word slow. Heavy. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Holding me.” “Kissing me.” “And you call yourself good.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He lowered his eyes. “I didn’t mean…” He said. Quiet. Like boy caught with stolen ladoo. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Scared,” I said. Louder. Stronger. “You actually think you’re innocent.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam…” He whispered. Almost like breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Okay. Let’s come back.” I said. Brisk tone. Like teacher starting fresh topic. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked up. Eyes wider now. More alert. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “That question I asked you earlier.” I said. Voice low. Controlled. “What will you do if I don’t say anything, hmm?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t reply. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like statue. Like stone. Like no voice inside body. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I laughed. Light one. Mocking. “Ahhh… so you’re not a talker.” “You’re just a doer, ah?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still silent. Still breathless. Still mute. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped one inch closer. One soft shuffle. Now my saree pallu was brushing his uniform. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t look down. Just steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t make me laugh.” I said. Eyebrows narrowing. Voice dry. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no reply. Not even flicker. Not even blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I ask you a question, you give full drama.” “Silent movie actor.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I looked at him. Up and down. Like scanner. Like judge. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - That pant? Still bulging. Still bold. Still standing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face? Still calm. His mouth? Still shut. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think you’re man, ah?” I asked. Scoffing. Not smiling. Just sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He blinked. Once. That’s all. Still no word. Still no breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I scoffed again. Like air pushed through teeth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’re nothing but a dog.” I said. No mercy in voice. No pity. Just flat truth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t react. Not even eyelid twitch. But something in air tightened. Like silent string. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped even closer. Now just breath between us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Voice dropped. Sharper now. “But obedient dog.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “One slap.” “One shout…” “You’ll sit.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He breathed out. One soft puff. Like warm cotton air. But still didn’t speak. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You can’t even come out of your own guts.” I said. Face close. Words closer. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He kept watching me. Not flinching. Not falling. But not answering. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I shook my head. Like disappointment. One slow shake. “Don’t act manly.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He was still standing. Same place. Same breath. Same stare. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like some security statue. Not wood. Not stone. But something stiff. Unmoving. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He was blinking. He was breathing. But that’s all. No talk. No move. No boldness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Even after all my words. All my taunts. All my smirks and insults. All my finger-pointing and shouting. Still there. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still not daring. Still not stepping. Still not proving. Just standing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I tilted my head slightly. One small angle. Then raised one eyebrow. Slowly. Deliberately. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You really don’t have the balls, do you?” I said. Each word slow. Dripping like tap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t flinch. Didn’t wince. Didn’t speak. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You stand here thinking you can do something,” I continued. One sharp look. Voice cool. “...but deep down, you know you’re nothing.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still no answer. Still just eyes. Still just air between us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I smirked. Small curve of lips. No joy. Just mock. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Not man.” “Not brave.” “Just standing, watching, waiting…” “...like one pet dog.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And then— He spoke. First time in five minutes. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Voice quiet. But steady. No shake. No apology. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Madam… I can do.” That’s all. Four words. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I blinked. Slow. Like lamp flickering. Then I spoke. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Oh ho ho…” I folded my arms. Chin raised. “Suddenly you found your tongue?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He nodded once. Small. But confident. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped one inch closer. Soft step. No noise. Just presence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Chin still lifted. Eyebrows pointed. “What can you do, ah?” I asked. “Say it.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked at me. Face calm. Grounded. Not excited. Not proud. Just ready. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Whatever you want me to do.” He said. Simple. Flat. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared. One heartbeat. Two. Then— Burst out laughing. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Oh! So clever answer, no?” Mocking tone. Teeth showing. Eyes glinting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam… just truth.” He said again. Plain. No spice. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You’ll do anything I want?” I asked. Voice like test. Like trap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Yes madam.” He said. That same slow nod. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I started walking. Slow steps. Soft footfalls. Around him. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - One circle. Watching him. From side. From back. From other side. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like I was judging one bull in village fair. Checking muscles. Checking breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Okay…” I said. Voice mocking. One eyebrow lifted. “Then show me.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked up. Eyes straight. No blink. No tilt. Just full attention. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Be a man,” I said sharply. One sentence. Strong. Like slap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t stand like spoon.” “Show me what you can do.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He hesitated. One second. One pause. Then he asked— - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Madam… are you sure?” Soft voice. But full. No joke. No shake. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I paused. Turned. Faced him. Body straight. Eyes locked. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Am I sure?” I repeated. Flat voice. One echo. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He nodded. That same low tone. Like one respectful criminal. Asking permission. Before robbing temple. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I grinned. Mouth tilted. Eyes flashing. “Why won’t I be sure?” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still silent. His face didn’t shift. Just focus. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think I’m scared of you?” I asked. Teeth showing. Mocking. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “No madam…” He said. Still honest. Still soft. Still strong. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t act like cocky fellow…” “...just because your pants are bulging.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He blinked. Once. Didn’t answer. Didn’t react. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stepped in again. Closer. Right up to his chest. Saree touching cloth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared. Right at his face. Strong stare. Tight jaw. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “You think I won’t handle you?” I asked. No blink. No smile. Just sharp breath. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - No answer. He just breathed. Calm. Focused. Waiting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I leaned in. Real close. Mouth near his collar. Voice low. Words hot. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I’ll cut your tongue…” “…and throw it in the dumpster.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He breathed out. One slow puff. Not panic. Not power. Just stillness. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then he said— “Okay, madam.” One line. Simple. Quiet. Final. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then he started stepping forward. One step. Two steps. Coming straight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - At me. Full direction. No turn. No stop. No blink. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Eyes focused. Like he believed I was scared. Like he thought he had upper hand. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But I stood. Still. Straight. Unmoving. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because only I knew— I was the one provoking. I was the one pressing his buttons. I was the one testing what he could do. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I didn’t move. Not one step. Not one breath out of place. Even as he came closer. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - One step. Then another. Slow. Steady. Heavy with silence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His eyes — calm. Not soft. Not harsh. Just calm. Like water that’s hiding storm. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His face — unreadable. No smile. No frown. Just quiet stone. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His body — confident. Each movement slow. But not shy. Not scared. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But me? My body was still. Feet planted. Breath stuck. Voice? Full sharp. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Don’t think I’m afraid of you.” I said. Firm. Cold. Like blade. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t reply. Didn’t nod. Didn’t smirk. Just kept coming. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Do whatever you want.” I said again. Louder. Like challenge. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still silent. Like he was listening to different voice. Some internal one. Not mine. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “I won’t complain.” I added. Smirk playing on lips. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His eyebrows lifted. Slightly. Tiny arch. That’s all. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I smirked. “One eyebrow?” I mocked. “Let’s see if you have guts…” “…or you’re just boneless inside uniform.” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Still he stood there. Still waiting. Still silent. Like he was watching for green signal. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - My heart? Doing drum inside chest. Not full drum. Small one. But steady. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But face? Face stayed queen. Upper lip tight. Eyebrows calm. Eyes holding. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Inside though… Full mess. No clarity. No logic. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I didn’t know what the hell was happening. Why I was saying these things. Why I was standing like that. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - What was I expecting? One slap? One kiss? One fight? I didn’t know. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But one thing I knew— One solid thing inside confusion. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I was going to allow. Allow and watch. Just to see. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - How far he would go. How much he actually dared. How real this boldness was. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He took one more step. Now his breath touched me. Hit my nose. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Smelled like masala Boost. And sweat. That warm cottony male smell. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Familiar. Rough. Strong. I didn’t move. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He looked at me. Then sideways. Around. Eyes doing one full security check. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - First to window. Curtains closed. Latch tight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then balcony door. Locked. Frame solid. No gap. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then kitchen entrance. Open space. But no shadow. No sound. No one. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Just silence. Only air. Only us. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Inside this flat. Inside this kitchen. Inside this exact moment. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— He looked back at me. Eyes meeting. No questions left. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And said softly— “Okay, madam… Since you said…” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then one more step. Closer. Now— Our bodies? Almost touching. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - His chest was right near my bust. I could feel the heat. The pull. The shape. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I didn’t back away. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t adjust my blouse. Just stood. Watching. Waiting. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Then— His hand lifted. One slow movement. Toward my pallu. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - That green-gold cloth. Still tucked across my shoulder. Still pinned to blouse lining. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I raised my hand fast. Palm open. Sharp fingers. Full slap pose. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Oi!” I shouted. “What are you—” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But before I could finish— His other hand moved. Caught my wrist. Mid-air. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Again. Same as before. Like routine. Like habit. Like training. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Like my slaps were mosquito bites. Like he had learned my pattern. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I struggled slightly. Pulled once. Pulled twice. “Leave my hand!” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t. Didn’t blink. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even look at my hand. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Because his first hand? It reached the pallu. Right near my shoulder. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Right at the pinned edge. Two fingers. Then full grip. Like decision. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stared. Eyeballs wide. Jaw half open. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “Eh… What are you doing now?” Still no answer. Still that same damn silence. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He didn’t ask permission. Didn’t check my face. Didn’t test mood. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Just acted. Like his hands had more guts than his mouth. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - That safety pin. Small one. Still attached. Still holding pallu in place. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - He tugged it. Once. Sharp. Straight. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Pin didn’t break. Just bent. Cloth stretched slightly. Tension rising. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I opened mouth— “Oi! Don’t pull like—” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - But he didn’t stop. His hand yanked it again. Hard. Fast. Confident. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And the sound— CHHK! That tiny metal snap. Sharp in kitchen air. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The pin broke open. Pallu rushed out. Slipped from fingers. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Fell away from my chest. Tumbled down. Soft green-gold cloth sliding off me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - And I— Screamed.
10-08-2025, 10:46 AM
Good to hear that the story has BDSM and hope prakash is gonna be the master making this lady his slave.
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