Adultery The Language of Her Heart

[val.coutinho]

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 

Very well replied Preeti..... I too support this and you... 
Yazhiniram please continue.... It's a wonder story that your writing

[yazhiniram]

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

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.

[yazhiniram]

He didn’t speak.

Not one word.

Just nodded.


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Once.

Small.

Like scared student saying yes to angry teacher.

Like one tiny agreement to save life.


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I looked at him.

Face straight.

Eyes hard.

Then—

I burst out laughing.


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“HAHAHA—oh god…”

My hand came up.

Clapped once.

Palm to palm.

Sharp sound in kitchen.


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“You don’t have work, ah?”

I asked.

Still laughing.

Mocking.


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Still silence.

He didn’t defend.

Didn’t excuse.

Just stood.

Like wall painting.


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“You’re supposed to be at the gate,” I said.

“Watching dogs and autos.”

“Not inside my kitchen, doing this comedy.”


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Finally—

His voice came.

Soft.

“No madam… I asked Guru to cover for me.”


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I blinked.

One sharp blink.

“Oh ho!”

My head tilted.

“So Guru is now your assistant?”


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“No madam… just cover.”

“We usually do for each other.”

His voice still soft.

Still polite.

Like trying not to get another slap.


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“Hmmmmm…”

I said.

Dragging the sound.

Lips tight.

Voice flat.


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“So this is what you call ‘cover’ work?”

I raised eyebrows.

Gave full college principal look.


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He looked confused.

Head tilted slightly.

Like goat hearing English song.


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I pointed to myself.

One firm finger.

“This is your job now?”

“Come inside others home…”

“Talk with housewives…”


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“Stare at them…”

“Kiss navel…”

“Stand like hero?”


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“No madam…”

He said quickly.

“I don’t do like this anywhere…”


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“Every house in apartment, you’re doing this programme?”

“Or only mine?”

I asked.

Sharp voice.

Faster words.


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“No madam.”

He said.

“Only here. Only because—”


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“Because what?”

I snapped.

Eyebrows raised.

One step forward.


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He stopped.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t finish.

Mouth open half-inch.


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I laughed again.

“Ohhh ho ho.”

Louder this time.

“Secrets now?”


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“No secret madam…”

He said.

Quick.

Soft.

Like damage control.


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“You better not.”

I hissed.

Voice dropping.

“Otherwise I’ll cut your cock and feed it to street dogs.”


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“No madam… I’m good.”

He said.

Fast breath.

Eyes lowering.


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“Good?”

I repeated.

Tilting head.

Mocking smile.


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“Yes madam.”

He said.

“I swear.”

Voice honest.

Almost stupidly honest.


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I looked at the clock.

Wall one.

Plain round face.

Needles ticking.


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8:21.

He came at 8.

I remembered.

Sharp.

Clear.


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“Twenty minutes,” I said.

Eyes still on clock.

Then on him.


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He blinked.

Small blink.

Not sure what’s coming.


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“You’ve been standing in my flat for twenty minutes.”

I said.

Each word slow.

Heavy.


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“Holding me.”

“Kissing me.”

“And you call yourself good.”


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He lowered his eyes.

“I didn’t mean…”

He said.

Quiet.

Like boy caught with stolen ladoo.


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“Scared,” I said.

Louder.

Stronger.

“You actually think you’re innocent.”


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“No madam…”

He whispered.

Almost like breath.


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“Okay. Let’s come back.”

I said.

Brisk tone.

Like teacher starting fresh topic.


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He looked up.

Eyes wider now.

More alert.


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“That question I asked you earlier.”

I said.

Voice low.

Controlled.

“What will you do if I don’t say anything, hmm?”


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He didn’t reply.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t move.

Just stood.


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Like statue.

Like stone.

Like no voice inside body.


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I laughed.

Light one.

Mocking.

“Ahhh… so you’re not a talker.”

“You’re just a doer, ah?”


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Still silent.

Still breathless.

Still mute.


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I stepped one inch closer.

One soft shuffle.

Now my saree pallu was brushing his uniform.


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He didn’t move.

Didn’t twitch.

Didn’t look down.

Just steady.


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“Don’t make me laugh.”

I said.

Eyebrows narrowing.

Voice dry.


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Still no reply.

Not even flicker.

Not even blink.


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“I ask you a question, you give full drama.”

“Silent movie actor.”


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I looked at him.

Up and down.

Like scanner.

Like judge.


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That pant?

Still bulging.

Still bold.

Still standing.


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His face?

Still calm.

His mouth?

Still shut.


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“You think you’re man, ah?”

I asked.

Scoffing.

Not smiling.

Just sharp.


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He blinked.

Once.

That’s all.

Still no word.

Still no breath.


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I scoffed again.

Like air pushed through teeth.


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“You’re nothing but a dog.”

I said.

No mercy in voice.

No pity.

Just flat truth.


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He didn’t react.

Not even eyelid twitch.

But something in air tightened.

Like silent string.


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I stepped even closer.

Now just breath between us.


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Voice dropped.

Sharper now.

“But obedient dog.”


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“One slap.”

“One shout…”

“You’ll sit.”


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He breathed out.

One soft puff.

Like warm cotton air.

But still didn’t speak.


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“You can’t even come out of your own guts.”

I said.

Face close.

Words closer.


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He kept watching me.

Not flinching.

Not falling.

But not answering.


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I shook my head.

Like disappointment.

One slow shake.

“Don’t act manly.”


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He was still standing.

Same place.

Same breath.

Same stare.


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Like some security statue.

Not wood.

Not stone.

But something stiff.

Unmoving.


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He was blinking.

He was breathing.

But that’s all.

No talk.

No move.

No boldness.


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Even after all my words.

All my taunts.

All my smirks and insults.

All my finger-pointing and shouting.

Still there.


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Still not daring.

Still not stepping.

Still not proving.

Just standing.


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I tilted my head slightly.

One small angle.

Then raised one eyebrow.

Slowly.

Deliberately.


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“You really don’t have the balls, do you?”

I said.

Each word slow.

Dripping like tap.


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He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t wince.

Didn’t speak.


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“You stand here thinking you can do something,” I continued.

One sharp look.

Voice cool.

“...but deep down, you know you’re nothing.”


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Still no answer.

Still just eyes.

Still just air between us.


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I smirked.

Small curve of lips.

No joy.

Just mock.


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“Not man.”

“Not brave.”

“Just standing, watching, waiting…”

“...like one pet dog.”


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And then—

He spoke.

First time in five minutes.


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Voice quiet.

But steady.

No shake.

No apology.


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“Madam… I can do.”

That’s all.

Four words.


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I blinked.

Slow.

Like lamp flickering.

Then I spoke.


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“Oh ho ho…”

I folded my arms.

Chin raised.

“Suddenly you found your tongue?”


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He nodded once.

Small.

But confident.


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I stepped one inch closer.

Soft step.

No noise.

Just presence.


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Chin still lifted.

Eyebrows pointed.

“What can you do, ah?” I asked.

“Say it.”


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He looked at me.

Face calm.

Grounded.

Not excited.

Not proud.

Just ready.


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“Whatever you want me to do.”

He said.

Simple.

Flat.


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I stared.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Then—

Burst out laughing.


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“Oh! So clever answer, no?”

Mocking tone.

Teeth showing.

Eyes glinting.


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“No madam… just truth.”

He said again.

Plain.

No spice.


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“You’ll do anything I want?”

I asked.

Voice like test.

Like trap.


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“Yes madam.”

He said.

That same slow nod.


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I started walking.

Slow steps.

Soft footfalls.

Around him.


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One circle.

Watching him.

From side.

From back.

From other side.


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Like I was judging one bull in village fair.

Checking muscles.

Checking breath.


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“Okay…”

I said.

Voice mocking.

One eyebrow lifted.

“Then show me.”


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He looked up.

Eyes straight.

No blink.

No tilt.

Just full attention.


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“Be a man,” I said sharply.

One sentence.

Strong.

Like slap.


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“Don’t stand like spoon.”

“Show me what you can do.”


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He hesitated.

One second.

One pause.

Then he asked—


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“Madam… are you sure?”

Soft voice.

But full.

No joke.

No shake.


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I paused.

Turned.

Faced him.

Body straight.

Eyes locked.


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“Am I sure?”

I repeated.

Flat voice.

One echo.


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He nodded.

That same low tone.

Like one respectful criminal.

Asking permission.

Before robbing temple.


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I grinned.

Mouth tilted.

Eyes flashing.

“Why won’t I be sure?”


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Still silent.

His face didn’t shift.

Just focus.


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“You think I’m scared of you?”

I asked.

Teeth showing.

Mocking.


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“No madam…”

He said.

Still honest.

Still soft.

Still strong.


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“Don’t act like cocky fellow…”

“...just because your pants are bulging.”


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He blinked.

Once.

Didn’t answer.

Didn’t react.


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I stepped in again.

Closer.

Right up to his chest.

Saree touching cloth.


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I stared.

Right at his face.

Strong stare.

Tight jaw.


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“You think I won’t handle you?”

I asked.

No blink.

No smile.

Just sharp breath.


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No answer.

He just breathed.

Calm.

Focused.

Waiting.


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I leaned in.

Real close.

Mouth near his collar.

Voice low.

Words hot.


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“I’ll cut your tongue…”

“…and throw it in the dumpster.”


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He breathed out.

One slow puff.

Not panic.

Not power.

Just stillness.


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Then he said—

“Okay, madam.”

One line.

Simple.

Quiet.

Final.


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Then he started stepping forward.

One step.

Two steps.

Coming straight.


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At me.

Full direction.

No turn.

No stop.

No blink.


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Eyes focused.

Like he believed I was scared.

Like he thought he had upper hand.


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But I stood.

Still.

Straight.

Unmoving.


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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.


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I didn’t move.

Not one step.

Not one breath out of place.

Even as he came closer.


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One step.

Then another.

Slow.

Steady.

Heavy with silence.


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His eyes — calm.

Not soft.

Not harsh.

Just calm.

Like water that’s hiding storm.


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His face — unreadable.

No smile.

No frown.

Just quiet stone.


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His body — confident.

Each movement slow.

But not shy.

Not scared.


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But me?

My body was still.

Feet planted.

Breath stuck.

Voice?

Full sharp.


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“Don’t think I’m afraid of you.”

I said.

Firm.

Cold.

Like blade.


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He didn’t reply.

Didn’t nod.

Didn’t smirk.

Just kept coming.


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“Do whatever you want.”

I said again.

Louder.

Like challenge.


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Still silent.

Like he was listening to different voice.

Some internal one.

Not mine.


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“I won’t complain.”

I added.

Smirk playing on lips.


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His eyebrows lifted.

Slightly.

Tiny arch.

That’s all.


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I smirked.

“One eyebrow?”

I mocked.

“Let’s see if you have guts…”

“…or you’re just boneless inside uniform.”


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Still he stood there.

Still waiting.

Still silent.

Like he was watching for green signal.


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My heart?

Doing drum inside chest.

Not full drum.

Small one.

But steady.


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But face?

Face stayed queen.

Upper lip tight.

Eyebrows calm.

Eyes holding.


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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.

[King Kesavan]

Good to hear that the story has BDSM and hope prakash is gonna be the master making this lady his slave.

[val.coutinho]

Wow.... Awesome update..... Building the tension in the story.... I just can't wait to see where this all leads to.... Hope the BDSM is at the peak.... You're one story maker... Please update soon

Thank you for such a wonderful.story

[Sage_69]

She is horny and lost her mind. A hard fuck will cool her down.

[jroy1984]

Super update..

[Vijay42]

Wowwww....
Have a frenzied intercourse...
Pavithra happy is important...

[Sage_69]

Waiting for the next update.

[yazhiniram]

I screamed.

Loud.

Sharp.

Echoing in kitchen tile air.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But not because of shame.

Not because of blouse opening.

Not because of chest showing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not even fear.

Not that type.

It was pain.

Small one.

Surprise pain.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Because—

That stupid pin.

That small metal devil.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


When he pulled my pallu—

It dragged more than just cloth.

It took part of blouse lining too.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The blouse tore.

Near the shoulder.

Not full rip.

But tear.

Corner gone.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And the pin?

That metal pin?

It scratched my skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


One sharp scratch.

Right near top of left breast.

Just above the bra cup line.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not bleeding.

But red.

One line.

Plain and visible.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I hissed.

Teeth clenched.

Eyes dropped down.

Looked at it.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Eyy!”

I shouted.

“What did you do!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Still standing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still holding my right wrist.

Still watching me.

But his eyes?

Now stuck.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


On my chest.

Blouse still there.

But open at corner.

Side of bra cup slightly visible.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That bare patch of skin—

And that scratch line.

Like one underline.

Red.

Hot.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I jerked my hand.

“Leave me!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t.

Still holding.

Still breathing.

Still watching.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Look what you did!”

I shouted.

Voice full heat.

Used my left hand.

Pointed at the scratch.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“See this! It’s burning!”

Still no reply.

Not even blink.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He just stood.

Watching.

Like I was some museum item.

One damaged statue.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re mad,” I snapped.

“Fully mental case.”

Words sharp.

Tone flat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still no expression.

Face calm.

But his breath?

Different.

Little deeper.

Little heavier.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like something rising from his chest.

Slow volcano.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I pulled my wrist again.

Still locked.

No use.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


So I reached for pallu.

Left hand.

Slipped across my waist.

It was still there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still hanging down one side.

Still clinging to shoulder edge.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I grabbed it.

Started pulling.

To cover myself.

To hide.

To fix.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But before I could—

He caught my wrist.

The other one now.

Left hand trapped too.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Eh!”

I shouted.

“Don’t you dare!”

Voice rising.

But breath breaking.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He still didn’t speak.

Still no expression.

Only motion.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He moved.

One fast movement.

Like reflex.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He spun me.

Spun my whole body.

Like dance move.

Quick pull.

Quick twist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Suddenly I was facing away.

My back to his chest.

His body behind me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

Loud breath.

Because in that spin—

My saree moved.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Pleats untucked.

Border twisted.

Tension released.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The full six-yard drama—

Now looked like garden hose.

Hanging.

Tangled.

Wild.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still partly clinging to front shoulder.

But mostly sliding off.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I froze.

Stiff.

Then shouted—

“Prakash!”

One cry.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand was near my waist now.

Fingers moving.

Going lower.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


To the second pin.

Brass one.

Old-fashioned.

Tied to side of petticoat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That pin—

That one held everything.

Whole saree balance.

That was the anchor.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I stiffened.

“Don’t,” I warned.

Firm.

Flat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t reply.

Fingers kept moving.

Closer.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t touch that one.”

I said again.

Eyes staring at kitchen shelf in front of me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still silent.

Still acting like my voice was background noise.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Prakash. I’m serious. That one—”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


CHHK!

The sound.

Again.

Not as sharp.

Not as loud.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But dangerous.

More dangerous.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He had done it.

He pulled the second one.

Snapped it open.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No scratch this time.

No pain.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But—

The side seam of my petticoat tore.

Right at the hip.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not full tear.

Just one short rip.

One stupid hole.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And inside that hole?

My panty.

Visible.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only small patch.

But enough.

White.

Plain.

Elastic edge showing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Soft waistband.

One glimpse.

Too much glimpse.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“YOU—!”

I screamed.

Spun around.

Whirled back to face him.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“I’ll KILL you!”

Words shouted.

Full power.

No filter.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t move.

Didn’t even blink.

Didn’t lift hand in defence.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only stood.

Now holding my full saree.

Bunched in one hand.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And still holding my wrist.

In the other.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

My eyes were open.

But brain?

Blank.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My entire saree—

Gone.

Just gone.

Vanished like magic cloth.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His hand?

Still holding my wrist.

Same grip.

Same calm pressure.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And I…

I was standing there.

Middle of kitchen.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Only in blouse and petticoat.

Inside, yes.

Bra and panty were there.

Still holding.

Still hugging skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But outer layer?

Torn.

Removed.

Thrown.

Like old bedsheet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And him?

His eyes were scanning.

Full scan.

Top to bottom.

Slow.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Shameless.

Bold.

Like he had full right.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His stare moved from my waist…

To my blouse.

To that red scratch near chest.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


To the torn seam on the petticoat…

To the side hip.

To that tiny hole.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like I was one mannequin on display.

Dressed in damage.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I swallowed.

Hard.

Then shouted—


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“What the HELL are you thinking!”

My voice broke sharp.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t answer.

Didn’t even blink.

Just stared.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Hello? Idiot? Did you lose mind?”

Still nothing.

Like wall.

Only eyes moving.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And then—

He threw the saree.

Just like that.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Flung it across kitchen.

One smooth fling.

Like disposing paper.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


It flew.

Landed near dining table.

Half on chair.

Half on floor.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like waste cloth.

Discarded.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“EH!”

I yelled.

“That’s saree, not mopping rag!”

My voice was shaking.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t even look.

Not once.

Now—

Both his eyes were fully on me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He pulled me.

Slight tug at the wrist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Made me step closer.

Involuntary step.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Chest to chest.

Almost.

Heat to heat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I tried to resist.

Leg pulled back once.

Didn’t work.

Still got dragged.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


So I raised my voice.

“What you planning, idiot?”

“You think this is romantic scene or what?”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t speak.

Still nothing.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Instead—

He touched me.

Again.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Fingers straight.

No curve.

No flirt.

Right to my belly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Right to navel.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Aaahhh…”

I moaned.

It escaped.

On its own.

No warning.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body jumped.

Small twitch.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That place was already sensitive.

Already awake.

Already waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Now—

Bare.

Open.

Hot.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His thumb moved.

Soft.

One circle.

Then lower.

Then sideways.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My blouse shifted.

Barely.

But enough.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My body tensed.

Muscles hard.

Skin hot.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Stop doing these things!”

I said through teeth.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t.

Hand slid around.

To my back.

Lower.

Below waist.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

Under my ass.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

Air caught.

“Don’t touch there!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Too late.

Already there.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He bent slightly.

Hand under.

Gripping.

Lifting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

He lifted me.

Full lift.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like sack of rice.

Like Boost can.

Like cooking cylinder.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ayyyo! You mad fellow—PUT ME DOWN!”

I shouted.

Loud.

But useless.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He didn’t stop.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even grunt.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I hit his back.

Fist to spine.

“IDIOT!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


No effect.

He shifted my weight.

Adjusted hold.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Now—

He had thrown me.

Over his shoulder.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Like luggage.

Like sack of onions.

Like vegetable basket from weekly market.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my bare navel?

Resting.

Right on his uniform shoulder.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That cloth—

Rough cotton.

Dry.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And my skin?

Warm.

Bare.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


That direct touch—

It sent one electricity line through my hips.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Shocking.

Wrong.

Sweet.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Put me down!”

I yelled.

“This is not gas delivery!”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t shake.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He just started turning.

One step.

Then another.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


From the kitchen.

Carrying me like that.

Like this was his job.

Like this was his duty.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He walked.

Slow.

Steady.

His boots were heavy on the tile.

Each step made a soft thud.

Like distant drumbeat.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I was on his shoulder.

Still.

Bent.

Folded.

My whole body hanging down, helplessly.

Like one half-filled cylinder being carried for gas stove.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My waist was pressing against his shoulder.

Hard.

Firm.

The bone was digging into me slightly.

Not pain.

Just pressure.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My belly was against his uniform cloth.

It was rough cotton.

Dry.

Warm.

It rubbed softly against my skin with every step.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My hair was falling.

Like mop.

Down.

Long strands slipping over my face.

Down to the floor almost.

Swinging with his steps.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Through the dining room he walked.

Like he owned the path.

Like he owned the house.

Not even asking.

Not even hesitating.

Just walking.

Like it was his plan from beginning.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I shouted.

“Eh! Prakash!”

My voice bounced off the walls.

Shrill.

Sharp.

But my body was still bouncing on him.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“You’re taking advantage now!”

I said it loud.

Like accusation.

Like warning.

But he didn’t reply.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t slow.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I tried again.

“Enough! I’m warning you!”

Still silence.

Only the dull thudding sound of his boots on the floor.

Only his strong arm around my thighs.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But inside me?

Different story.

Not shouting.

Not fighting.

Inside me?

There was something else.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Curiosity.

It was bubbling.

Excitement.

It was rising.

Like small soda bottle being shaken slowly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My stomach felt fluttery.

Not fear.

Something else.

Little nervous.

But also—

Little thrilled.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I wanted to know.

What he’d do next.

What he was planning.

What this quiet madness was.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


We entered.

My bedroom.

Just like that.

No warning.

No knocking.

Only movement.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The room still smelled—

Like the last incense stick I lit.

Soft sandalwood smoke.

Still hanging in the corners.

Still hugging the curtains.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Fan was on.

Slow speed.

Making that ticking sound.

Blades turning lazy circles above.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Blanket was folded neatly.

Pillow was pushed to one side.

Bed looked innocent.

Calm.

Waiting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I kicked my feet.

Little kicks.

Tried to protest.

“Ayyyo! Put me down!”

I shouted.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And he did.

Just like that.

He lowered me.

Not thrown.

Not dropped.

Just placed down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I landed on the edge of the bed.

My thighs bent.

My back still straight.

My breath fast.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


My petticoat had shifted.

That stupid slit on the side—

It opened a little.

One thigh almost showing.

Skin peeking through the gap.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

Caught my balance.

Looked up at him.

He was still holding my wrist.

Still gripping.

Still owning.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I pulled it.

“Leave me!”

No use.

His fingers were firm.

Like handcuffs.

Not hard.

But unrelenting.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


So I used my other hand.

Raised it up.

High.

Palm open.

Full slap mode.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But he caught it.

Again.

Like he knew it was coming.

Caught it mid-air.

Smooth.

Fast.

Sure.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But this time—

He didn’t just hold.

He brought it to his lips.

Slowly.

Gently.

Softly.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


And kissed it.

Right on the wrist.

Warm.

Moist.

Tender.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I froze.

My eyes widened.

That feeling…

It shot straight into my stomach.

Warmth.

Liquid.

Quick.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Ahhh…”

It escaped me.

Soft sound.

Barely a moan.

But real.

From deep inside.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


But I didn’t show on face.

Not fully.

My lips stayed tight.

I snapped.

“I didn’t ask for that.”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Still no reply.

But he started releasing.

One finger.

Then another.

Letting go of both hands.

Like slow surrender.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I jerked back.

Pulled away.

Stood up straight.

Adjusted my blouse strap.

Fingers trembling.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I snapped again.

“What are you thinking, ah?”

Still no reply.

His eyes were calm.

Face still.

Unmoving.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t think you’ve become something great!”

I said it with heat.

Anger.

But he didn’t react.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


So I slapped.

One side.

Hard.

Sharp.

Tight across his cheek.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His face turned slightly.

But nothing changed.

No flinch.

No blink.

Like my slap was just breeze.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t act like you’re hero,” I scolded.

Still no answer.

Still that unreadable face.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

He stepped closer.

Suddenly.

Quietly.

Steadily.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He took both my hands again.

Held them.

Gently.

Then—

He pulled them down.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then his hands came forward.

To my chest.

Right over the blouse.

Right over the soft cups.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped.

Body froze.

Eyes widened.

Breath stopped.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Then—

His fingers slid.

Under the blouse.

Into the gap.

Between fabric and skin.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Not touching the breasts yet.

But close.

Too close.

I could feel the intent.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I gasped louder.

“Prakash!”

He paused.

Not pulled back.

Not stopped.

Just paused.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


He was feeling for the seam.

The stitch.

The blouse line.

I could feel his fingers.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I whispered fast.

“Don’t. This is one of my best pieces.”

No reply.

His eyes didn’t move.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Costly blouse,” I said. “Don’t mess.”

Still silent.

Still fingers moving.

Still searching.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


I panicked.

Grabbed his wrists.

Both hands.

Held them tight.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Don’t do it.”

I said it quietly.

But clearly.

My heart was thudding.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


His eyes were calm.

Unmoving.

Still watching me.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Too much,” I whispered.

“This is becoming full madness.”

I was saying—

[val.coutinho]

Awesome..... I must say you have portrayed the story in an excellent manner..... But then again another update ended in suspense

[Sage_69]

Excellent update. Pavi showing weakness made the scene more interesting.

[Vijay42]

Good good..
Pavithra 8 years after an unforgettable " night ".....
That too with a stranger....super bro...continue
....     Without injuries

[sexypreeti]

Truly awesome update  clp); clp); clp);

Keep up the amazing work  yr):

[Hotyyhard]

Costly blouse as if Prakash cares lol, he will show no mercy rip her clothes and fk her ;)

[jroy1984]

Finally, prakash is starting to show his guts.. Pavi will have to be submissive now..

[lanevreddy]

It's your best set of updates yet. The character development sets this story miles apart from the rest. Never liked the prakash episodes much before, but now I am all in to see what happens next. Kudos!

[lanevreddy]

Thanks for the awesome navel scenes as well! Expecting more.

[abcturbine]

great writings....brilliant naraation style...eagerly waith for next...

[val.coutinho]

Happy independence day to all