Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

"Madhuri, your saree that day was stunning!" Mrs. Sharma gushed, stepping inside.

"All the men at the reception were staring, one guy even asked me for your number. Ramesh is so lucky!" Madhuri laughed, brushing it off.

"Stop, you're too much!" she said, but her cheeks flushed, a flicker of pride in her eyes. Abhi watched from the stairs, unseen, the words sinking in.

"Ishaan wasn't wrong. Even Mrs. Sharma saw it." he thought, slipping back to his room, texting Ishaan. 

"You know what? The Neighbor auntie just came. I heard her tell my mom that men were staring at her in the reception, and she couldn't stop smiling."

Ishaan lounged on the high college bleachers that afternoon, a cricket bat balanced across his knees, the sun beating down on his bare shoulders. 

His reply was instant: "Fuck yeah, bro. I knew your mom was a slut inside, they love all the attention they get."

Abhi flinched, the word, slut, jarring against his mom's image. 

But the flush on her cheeks, the way she'd stood a little taller at Mrs. Sharma's words stuck with him.

His fingers shook as he typed, fury and fear twisting in his chest. "Stop it, Ishaan. You're crossing the line. I'm only doing this because of our deal. You need to back off now."

Ishaan's reply dripped with mockery. "Oh, please, Abhi. Not everyone's a gutless loser like you, backing off at the first sign of trouble. If you had any balls, you'd have found something juicy in your mom's room by now."

Abhi's throat tightened. "I checked her room thoroughly. There's nothing there," he texted, his heart pounding. 

The lie burned, he couldn't mention the adult magazine he saw that night, its provocative cover flashing in his mind. Admitting it would only fuel Ishaan’s vile accusations, and as her son, he couldn’t betray her like that.

Ishaan's response was instant: "Nothing? Sure, kid. If you can't find it, I will."

Abhi's fingers froze over the screen, panic rising. "What?" he typed, faltering.

"Yeah," Ishaan shot back. "I'll swing by at 5 this evening. Be ready."

"No!" Abhi typed frantically. "Don't come here, please!"

Ishaan's words dripped with menace. "I've given you enough chances, kid. Tell your mom I'm coming. You don't want her caught off guard, do you? Oh, and tell her to whip up something tasty for me. See you."

Downstairs, Madhuri sent her off with a smile, closing the door and leaning against it. The compliment lingered, warming her. She shook her head, muttering, "Silly brain!," and returned to the kitchen, oblivious to Abhi's eyes.

Panic gripped Abhi, his legs felt heavy as he shuffled downstairs to the kitchen, where Madhuri was whisking batter, the aroma of spices filling the air. "Mom," he mumbled, voice barely steady, "uhh… Ishaan's coming over this evening. To… work on assignments."

Madhuri glanced up, smiling warmly, oblivious to the threat. "Okay, sweetie. I'll make something nice for you boys then."

Abhi was breaking, Madhuri was teetering. And the rose, whoever sent it, looming patiently for the devil to claim her innocence and turn to his advantage.

Cricket practice was over, but Ishaan stayed, scrolling through Madhuri's photo on his phone. "What a fucking prize you are! Curves begging to be grabbed, lips curling to moan." he murmured with  a slow grin spreading across his face.

He stood, stretching, his shadow long and sharp against the field, "Time to tighten the web."

The threads were in place, and Chapter 1 was just the start.

[Uvaaaa]

Awesome start and update soon add more characters

[Steel]

Chapter 2: Wolf at the Door

The Sunday evening glow settled over Hyderabad, a pleasant warmth bathing the city. Abhi sat on a mat on the living room floor of their large, modern two-story home, its spacious, landscaped yard lush with tropical plants.

Nestled in a well-maintained gated community, the house exuded luxury. A ceiling fan spun softly above him, casting cool air across the room, his math notebook open but untouched.

Madhuri was in the kitchen, the clatter of steel plates mixing with the sizzle of oil as she promised chicken pakora for the boys.

Abhi's stomach churned at the thought. Ishaan's coming into their home, and the photo he'd sent, the one still burning in his memory, felt like a loaded gun waiting to fire.

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up. "On my way, bro. Tell her to look hot for me." Abhi's fingers froze over the keys, a mix of dread and something sharper twisting inside.

He didn't reply, but the doorbell rang before he could think it through.

Madhuri wiped her hands on her apron, smoothing her hair as she crossed to the door. She changed into a reddish pink saree, simple but snug, the fabric catching her curves in the light, and Abhi's throat tightened, knowing Ishaan would see it too.

"Namaste, aunty!" Ishaan's voice boomed as the door swung open, bright and dripping with charm.

He stepped inside, all 6 feet of him, bright tee stretched over his arms, jeans hugging his thighs, a backpack slung over one shoulder.

His grin was wide, disarming, but his eyes, dark and piercing, locked onto her like a hunter sizing up prey. Abhi shrank into the couch, wishing he could disappear.

Madhuri smiled, polite but warm. "Ishaan? Good to see you, Come in, sit." 

She gestured to the sofa, oblivious to the way Ishaan's gaze lingered on her saree's pleats, tracing the line of her hips. "Snacks are almost ready. You guys keep talking. I'll be back," she said, closing the door.

"Thanks, aunty," Ishaan said, dropping his bag with a thud. "Smells amazing already, Abhi wasn't kidding about your cooking skills." He shot Abhi a wink, subtle but loaded, and Abhi's face burned, his hands clenching into fists.

"Oh, it's nothing special," Madhuri said, brushing off the compliment, and turned back to the kitchen.

Ishaan's grin widened, leaning toward Abhi as she left. "Fuck bro, she's hotter up close," he whispered, voice low and hungry. "That saree's begging to come off."

Abhi flinched, hissing, "Shh.. shut up!", but it was weak, drowned by the thud of his own pulse.

Ishaan sprawled on the sofa, legs spread wide, owning the space.

"Relax, buddy. I'm just admiring the view" He pulled out a notebook, flipping it open like this was really about studying, but his eyes kept darting to the kitchen.

[Steel]

Madhuri returned with a tray, steaming chicken pakora, a bowl of mayonnaise, and two glasses of water, setting it on the table. 

"Have it, boys," she said, her smile maternal but tinged with something else when Ishaan met her gaze. "You're growing strong, Ishaan, cricket, right?"

"Yeah aunty, just had a practice session this afternoon. Gotta stay fit," he said, stretching and flexing his arms casually, muscles rippling under his sleeve.

"You look like you keep yourself active too, office work can't be easy." His tone was smooth, a compliment wrapped in innocence, but Abhi saw the glint in his eyes, the bait being dangled.

Madhuri laughed, waving a hand. "Enough, flattery won't get you extra food!" She turned away, but her step faltered, just for a second.

Abhi caught it, the way she lingered on Ishaan's frame, her lips parting before she caught herself.

She retreated to the kitchen, and Ishaan smirked at Abhi, popping a handful of pakora into his mouth. "She likes me, bro. Did you see that?"

Abhi glared, whispering, "She's just being nice!"

Ishaan chuckled, leaning back. "Nice gets her wet. Keep watching."

Abhi's fists tightened, but he said nothing, the wolf now inside its den, and he was too tangled to stop it.

Madhuri stood at the sink, rinsing the tray, Ishaan's voice echoed in her ears, "You look like you keep yourself active too", and she hated how it lingered. "What did he mean by that?"

"He was just a boy, barely out of high college." she thought. But the way he'd said it, the confidence in his broad shoulders, she couldn't unsee it. Her fingers tightened around a spoon, scrubbing harder than necessary.

"Ugh, same old crappy thoughts again," she muttered, shaking her head.

From the living room, she heard Ishaan laugh, a deep, rolling sound that cut through the quiet house. Abhi's voice followed, softer, strained, and her chest twinged. 

Her son had been off lately, quiet, jumpy, avoiding her eyes. She'd chalked it up to high college stress, but now, with Ishaan here, she wondered. 

He was loud, brash, the kind of boy who'd drag Abhi into trouble if she wasn't careful. Yet he was polite, charming in a way that disarmed her. Too charming, maybe.

[Steel]

Back in the living room, Abhi sat rigid, watching Ishaan devour the pakora like it was a conquest. "Your mom's a fuckin' g0ddess bro, don't miss her blessings." Ishaan said between bites, loud enough for Abhi to cringe.

"Bet she gets every guy at work drooling." Abhi's jaw clenched, his voice barely a hiss. "Stop it, Ishaan. She's my mom."

Ishaan grinned, leaning closer. "Yea yeah, your mommy, and a damn fine one. You saw how she looked at me. She's starving for it." Abhi's hands shook, anger and shame boiling up, but before he could snap, Madhuri reappeared, wiping her hands on her pallu.

"How's it? Want some more?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes flicking between them.

Ishaan straightened, flashing that grin again. "I'm stuffed, aunty. Tasted incredible, no surprise coming from someone as beautiful as you." A faint blush crept across her cheeks.

"Gotta say this, you're spoiling me, better watch out, I might keep coming back." His voice was playful, but the edge was there, a challenge she didn't catch.

"Haha, you're always welcome here, Ishaan." she said, smiling despite herself. "Abhi needs good friends." She ruffled Abhi's hair and he ducked away, mumbling, "I'm fine, maa."

She frowned, sensing the tension, but let it go, heading upstairs. Ishaan watched her go, his gaze tracing her ass as she climbed, then turned to Abhi with a smirk. "She's inviting me in, bro. You're gonna help me make it stick."

Abhi's stomach dropped. "No way," he whispered, but Ishaan clapped him on the shoulder, hard.

"Yes way. Text me the update tonight." He stood, grabbing his bag, and sauntered to the door, pausing to glance back at Abhi. 

"Bye, Aunty!" he shouted, then dropped his voice just enough for Abhi to catch, "You're the…" before raising it again, "best snack ever!" shooting Abhi a wink.

Madhuri's voice floated down, "Glad to hear, Ishaan! Take care," and he left, leaving Abhi staring at the empty tray, facepalming with regret, the air thick with something he couldn't name.

[Steel]

The house was still that night, broken only by Ramesh's snores drifting from the bedroom. Abhi sat on his bed, legs crossed. He'd tried to ignore Ishaan's taunts, tried to focus on his math assignment, but the memory of Ishaan's grin, the way he'd looked at his mom, dragged him back every time.

His phone buzzed, sharp and insistent. Ishaan: "Where's my update, kid? Don't make me come over again. Go and check if she still has the rose." Abhi's heart thudded, panic spiking. He couldn't let Ishaan show up again, not after today, not with her already smiling at him too much.

He crept to his door, cracking it open, the hallway dim but alive with shadows. He took a breath, stepping into the dark, each step a betrayal. Madhuri’s room was upstairs, just beyond the staircase, its door slightly open.

Peering through the gap, he saw his mom and dad sleeping on a kind sized bed. Ramesh's snores rumbled steadily like a wall between her and the world. Abhi waited, counting their breaths until they evened out, then slipped inside.

The room smelled of her, rose perfume, a faint sweat, and his chest tightened, guilt warring with the thrill of being here. The drawer was in the vanity, locked, but the key glinted on her bracelet, dangling as she slept.

He hesitated, but his hand hovered on her hand, then gently slid the key off, his fingers brushing her skin. She stirred, murmuring something, and he froze, heart in his throat, but she settled, lost to dreams.

The drawer clicked open, and there it was, the rose, wilted but potent, the note folded beside it. 

He snapped a photo, and texted it to Ishaan: "She still has it." His hands shook as he tucked it back, relocking the drawer, slipping the key onto her wrist with a thief's care.

He fled to his room, locking the door, his breath ragged. Ishaan's reply buzzed: "I see, means she's still hooked. We need to pace up then."

Abhi sank onto his bed, the phone slipping from his grip. He curled into a ball, recalling the touch on her soft skin.

[Steel]

Madhuri woke Monday morning with a start, her wrist tingling where the key rested. She sat up, Ramesh still snoring beside her, and rubbed her eyes, a vague unease settling in her chest.

The dream lingered before her eyes, faceless hands, a deep voice calling her name, and she shook it off, blaming the heat. But as she swung her legs out of bed, her gaze fell to the vanity, the drawer shut tight. 

Something felt... off. She couldn't place it, but the air in the room was heavier, like someone had been there.

"Ugh, these filthy dreams!" she muttered, standing to stretch, her nightie riding up her thighs. 

She unlocked the drawer, checking the rose, still there, petals curling inward. Relief washed over her, then guilt.

"Why do I even care about this? It was just a stupid creepy prank," she thought, tearing the note and throwing it in the bin along with the rose. She slammed the drawer shut, leaving the key there and dressed quickly.

Downstairs, Abhi was sitting at the dining table, poking at his idlis with a fork, his eyes downcast.

"Morning sweetie! What, no appetite?" she asked, pouring herself tea.

He shrugged, mumbling, "Um.. Just tired, mom," but his voice was hollow.

She frowned, setting her cup down. "You're hiding something Abhi, did you get into any trouble in high college?"

He shook his head, and she sighed, brushing his hair back. "Tell me if anything’s bothering you, okay? I'm always here."

Abhi nodded, feeling her touch he didn't deserve, and watched her leave for work. 

He noticed the key absent from her bracelet. "Oh no, did she notice me last night?" his anxiety flared.

Once his dad had left, he nervously crept into her room. The drawer was slightly open, the rose nowhere in sight. A quick glance around revealed it lying in the trash, petals mangled, the note shredded.

He grabbed his phone and messaged Ishaan: "Hey, she tore up the note. I told you, my mom's not like that." and received no reply.

At the office, Madhuri buried herself in reports. The junior associate dropped by her desk, leaning too close. "Morning ma'am, you're glowing today," he said.

She scoffed, "Enough lad, work on your files."

She pushed it down, focusing on her screen, but the note crept back, "I see you", Ishaan's voice from yesterday, now this guy. 

"Uhh.. What's happening to me?" she grumbled.

The day dragged, and when she got home, another parcel waited, a small box, no sender. Her hands trembled as she opened it while Abhi’s upstairs, oblivious.

Inside, a single petal, fresh, red, and a new note.



"You can't hide, Madhuri. I'm closer than you think."

Her breath caught and she stuffed it into her bag, heart racing, and glanced at the stairs.

"Who is this creep? It has to be the guy from work, right? No, it's probably the guy who took my number from Mrs. Sharma... Or is it someone from the colony? Is it Ishaan? or Is it.. Abhi? Whatt, Noo..." she rushed to her room without saying a word to Abhi.

"Get your head straight girl, how did you just think like that? He's your son. Step out of it," she cursed herself.

Madhuri tore the new note and threw it in the bin, her pride warring with a growing itch she couldn't scratch.
 
It was not a random prank. Someone was watching, even closer now, and she didn't know whether to run or wait.

[Steel]

The next afternoon, Abhi trudged out of the high college courtyard, backpack dragging his shoulders down. He'd barely slept, his mom's silence last night screamed louder than words.

Ishaan leaned against the gate, sweat glistening on his bare arms. His grin was sharp, predatory. 

"Hey knucklehead, where are you running off to?" he called, voice carrying over the chatter of dispersing students.

Abhi froze, clutching his straps. "To the hospital, I got an appointment," he mumbled, but Ishaan stepped closer, towering over him. 

"Not today. We're taking a detour to your place." 

Abhi's stomach flipped. "No, she'll be at work," he lied, and Ishaan's eyes narrowed, catching it.

"Bullshit. I saw her car parked when I passed by earlier. Come on, don't be a twat" He clapped Abhi on the back, steering him toward the road.

Abhi stumbled along and they reached the gate just as Madhuri's car pulled up, she'd gone shopping, a rare break. 

She stepped out, a coral saree catching the sun, her hair loose and wild from the wind.

Abhi's breath hitched, but Ishaan whistled low, nudging him. "Jackpot"

Madhuri spotted them, waving with a tired smile. "Oh hey, Ishaan! What's this surprise visit?"

Ishaan flashed his charm, striding over. 

"Couldn't stay away, aunty. Your treat's still on my mind," His voice was honey, but his eyes raked her saree, lingering on the way it clung to her chest.

Madhuri laughed, brushing her hair back. 

"Enough, you'll make me cook all day!" 

She didn't see the hunger in his stare, but Abhi did, his fists clenching as Ishaan leaned closer, offering to carry her bag.

"Here, let me help," Ishaan said, taking it before she could protest, his fingers brushing hers.

Madhuri blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, but she nodded, leading them inside.

Abhi trailed behind, the air thick with something he couldn't name, fear, anger, a shameful spark he buried deep.

Ishaan dropped the bag on the table, sprawling on the sofa like he owned it, and Madhuri disappeared to the kitchen, promising snacks.

"You saw that?" Ishaan whispered, smirking. "She's into me. That touch, she felt it."

Abhi glared, his voice a hiss. "She's just being nice!" He didn't see it, but the glint in Ishaan's eyes said trouble.

[Steel]

Madhuri returned with a plate of sandwiches, setting it down with a smile. "Have them, Ishaan, you're too skinny for cricket," she tried to tease him a little for the taunts he made on her.

He rolled up his oversized t-shirt flexing his abs, grinning. "I'm only lean where it counts Aunty. Slim waist, but all muscle up here, feel it if you don't believe me," He held his hand out, bold.

Madhuri laughed, swatting his hand away. "Cover it up Ishaan! You're a bad boy, you know that?" she said, but her eyes lingered on his abs, a flush creeping up her neck before she turned away.

Abhi's chest tightened, the spark igniting, jealousy, maybe, or worse.

Ishaan caught it, whispering, "She's under my spell." he said, biting into a sandwich.

Abhi’s nerves spiked, and he muttered, "Wait till my dad catches you."

Ishaan just smirked, raising his voice to ask, "Aunty, where's uncle at? Didn't get a chance to meet him the last time." Abhi facepalmed.

"This house seems way too big for just you two," Ishaan added smoothly. Madhuri emerged with a coffee mug, smiling. "He's a busy man at work. Want some?" she offered.

"Nah, thanks, aunty. I'll have some next time with uncle," Ishaan replied, finishing the sandwiches and setting the plate down. He stood, thanking her with exaggerated charm, and left, his shadow stretching long behind.

Abhi stared at his sandwiches, appetite gone, the game now at his gate, and him too weak to shut it.

[Steel]

Madhuri stood in her bedroom that night, the coral saree pooled on the floor, her reflection stark in the mirror. She'd changed into a nightie, black, silky, a rare indulgence, and traced her fingers along her collarbone, replaying Ishaan's visit.

His boldness, offering to carry her bag and touching her, flexing abs like some hero, should've annoyed her. But it didn't. It stirred her, a ripple in the calm she'd clung to for years. "He's just a teenager... yet his confidence, his eyes, his body... they didn't feel like that," she thought.

Downstairs, Abhi paced the living room, he'd seen it, her flush, her laugh, the way she'd looked at Ishaan's abs. It wasn't just nice. It was something else, something that made his stomach churn and weirdly his dick twitch, a betrayal he couldn't face.

His phone buzzed, Ishaan: "Show me what she's doing."

Abhi's breath hitched, "I'm an idiot, swear to G0d, I might as well carve my own tombstone." He crept upstairs, the house creaking under him, and paused at her door.

It was ajar, the mirror angled just right, he saw her, nightie slipping off one shoulder, slightly showing off her cleavage, her hand sliding down her neck, eyes half-closed, her dress revealing one of her thighs.

His mouth went dry, a jolt shooting through him, shame, thrill, a mix he couldn't untangle.

She was lost in her own world, and he fumbled his phone, snapping a blurry shot before bolting back downstairs.

He sent it, hands shaking: "Here. Don't ask anymore."

Ishaan's response was a firebomb: "Damn! she's looking like a slut waiting to break."

"Congrats, dummy, you didn't screw it up, miracles do happen after all."

Abhi deleted it, curling into the couch, the image seared into him, his mom, vulnerable, alive in a way he'd never seen. He hated Ishaan, hated himself, but the thrill lingered, dark and addictive.

Upstairs, Madhuri caught a shadow in the mirror, a flicker, gone fast, and froze, heart pounding.

"Who's there?" she whispered, but the room was empty.

She locked the door, but the crack was widening, her pride splintering under eyes she couldn't see.

Across town, Ishaan grinned at the photo, stroking himself through his shorts. Madhuri was crumbling, faster than he'd hoped.

[Steel]

Wednesday evening hit like a freight train, Abhi bolted from high college, dodging Ishaan's usual gate ambush, his phone silent for once. He'd muted it after that photo of his mom in her nightie haunting him all day.

He darted home, head down, but the streets buzzed louder than his thoughts, autorickshaws honking, vendors shouting, and he didn't see Ishaan until it was too late.

"Oi, Abhi!" Ishaan's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. 

He lounged against a fruit cart near the market, an apple in hand, peeling it with a pocketknife.

"Where you running again? Missed you at the gate" His grin was casual, but his eyes glinted, pinning Abhi in place.

"I... need to go," Abhi mumbled, clutching his bag. Ishaan tossed the peel aside, stepping closer.

"Bullshit. You're dodging me. After that pic? You're in too deep to back out now."

Before Abhi could protest, Ishaan's gaze flicked past him, sharpening. "Well, fuck me, look who's here."

Abhi turned, spotting his mom at the vegetable stall, haggling over tomatoes fiercely with the shopkeeper in a fitted kurta and pants, her hair tied back, a basket on her arm.

She hadn't seen them yet, and Ishaan was already moving, dragging Abhi along. "Time to play, bro," he muttered.

[Steel]

"Maa!" Abhi called, voice cracking, a weak attempt to warn her, but Ishaan reached her first, all charm.

"Hello aunty, fancy seeing you here!" he boomed, flashing that grin.

Madhuri looked up, startled, then smiled. "Ishaan? What are you doing here in the market?" Her tone was light, but her eyes flicked to Abhi, questioning.

Ishaan stepped closer, grabbing a tomato from her basket. "Just helping out, Abhi said you'd be here. Let me carry that, it looks heavy."

He took the basket before she could argue, his arm brushing hers, deliberate and bold. Madhuri blinked, a faint flush creeping up her neck.

"Um.. its ok Ishaan, I'll manage," she said, reaching to take it back, but Ishaan held firm, flexing subtly.

"It's ok, aunty, I've got it, strong arms, remember?" 

He winked, and she laughed, soft and unguarded, before catching herself, glancing at Abhi.

"You're a cheeky one huh? But don't spoil my son," she teased, nodding at her son.

Abhi stood frozen, the air thickening around him. 

Ishaan's charm was a blade, slicing through her defenses, and he couldn't stop it, didn't know if he wanted to.

As they walked back home, Madhuri chatted ahead, oblivious, praising Ishaan's manners.

Abhi trailed behind, the market's noise fading into a dull roar in his head.

Ishaan dumped the basket inside, lingering by the door. 

"Thanks aunty, talking to you felt nice. See you soon," he said, his gaze locking with hers, slow and heavy.

Madhuri nodded, smiling, and shut the door while Abhi sank onto the couch.

Madhuri paced her bedroom that night, Ishaan's visit replayed in her mind, his arm brushing hers, and that wink. 

"Could it be him? No, he's just an attractive teenager. I shouldn't spoil my son’s friendship," she assured herself, yet the doubt stuck, a thorn in her chest.

Her breath uneven, and caught her reflection in the mirror, flushed, wild-eyed, a woman teetering on an edge she didn't want to name.

Downstairs, Ishaan's text hit Abhi with a punch: "What a kind son you are bro, serving your mom up on a platter."

Abhi hunched over his phone with shame flooding him, but he couldn't stop doubting his mom.

[Steel]

Morning came quick.

Madhuri dressed sharp, at breakfast, Abhi's voice broke the silence, small and forced. 

"Maa, umm... What do you think about Ishaan?" he asked, in a desperate attempt to clear his doubts.

She paused, spoon halfway to her mouth, her eyes narrowing. 

"Ishaan? He's sweet. Why?" Her tone was casual, but her grip tightened, suspicion flickering.

Abhi shrugged, mumbling, "Just asking," and bolted, leaving her staring after him.

At work, her colleagues flirted again during a presentation, "Black suits you, Ma'am", but she brushed him off, distracted.

The petal, Ishaan, Abhi's question, colleagues taunts, they all swirled a storm she couldn't outrun. All of a sudden in the middle of her presentation, she stood still, eyes open and sharp, as if she'd just pieced together a mysterious, tangled puzzle.

She quickly got back home as soon as the meeting was done.

She rushed to her bedroom, locked it, grabbed her phone, scrolling to DevilzMask, blocked weeks ago. Her thumb hovered, heart pounding. "Was it him? The stalker?"

She didn't know, but the itch was unbearable.

She unblocked the account, typing fast: "Who are you? Stop this, or I'll find you out" She held her breath and hit send.

Across town, Ishaan's phone pinged and his grin split wide. "Game fuckin' on," he muttered, typing back from DevilzMask: "You're already looking, Madhuri. Keep me close, I'll show you more."

[Steel]

Madhuri's phone buzzed, the reply a jolt, her heart raced reading it, a mix of fury and thrill she couldn't shake. He knew her name, her life, too much, and she'd cracked the door open. Her breath catches, eyes widening at his reply. Thrill dances down her spine, a forbidden shiver she hasn't felt in years.

She clutches her pants tighter, scolding herself, "This ain't right, get a grip girl, you're spiraling," but her fingers moved, driven by something deeper.

Her husband's face flashes in her mind, but her body hums with something alive. She couldn't use her real account to talk, too risky, too exposed. She wanted to play the stalker giving the taste of his own medicine.

She hasn't replied yet. Instead, she grabbed an old phone, opened Instagram, swiped to create a new profile, ShyVelvet, her hands trembling as she set it up. No display picture, no description, no hints, just a shadow.

She wants to turn the tables, taste the power he's been wielding over her. Her chest tightens as she creates that account, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in her gut.

She's never done this, played the mystery, the tease. 

Her husband's snores echo from the bedroom, and guilt gnaws at her, but the thrill drowns it out.

She thought it through until night, finally resolving to act. She typed, slow and deliberate, her breath shallow: "You think you know me, Creep?" she hit send. She waited, the silence stretching.

Ishaan's brow arches, a jolt of surprise hitting him as he gets a notification from an unknown account named ShyVelvet. His fingers hover over the keys.

He was always the one in control, the charmer who makes girls blush, and this felt different. "Is it her?" Ishaan wonders as his heart kicks up a notch, intrigued.

Then it buzzed "Wait, Madhuri? Is that you?" A nervous laugh escapes her lips, quickly muffled by her hand.

"He's sharp, damn him," she mutters, her palms sweat, but she leans into the role texting, "Guess again stalker, I'm not who you think I am." She sent it, pulse pounding

Ishaan chuckles, leaning forward "I'm used to girls throwing themselves at me. But this? This is a puzzle. I love it," he thought, the chase ignited him.

"Oh, alright, mystery girl. Let's see... you're someone who's watched me too, huh?" His grin widens, eyes glinting with challenge.

A reply came from ShyVelvet: "Maybe, or maybe I'm just here to mess with you. Guess who would think like that?" His heart kicks up a notch, intrigued.

He typed and sent "Oh, I've had my share of admirers. One girl tried to push me in a pool, after I refused a kiss. Another punctured my tires when I refused to walk her home, all mushy. But you're different. Spill, who are you?" Her jaw drops, a flush creeping up her neck.

Her jealousy stings her sharp and sudden. He is the kind she has always avoided.

[Steel]

Her fingers shook as she typed: "No, I'm a mystery. Keep guessing" hiding her shock behind mystery.

He's still betting it's Madhuri, that shy little housewife he's been unraveling all week. Ishaan's enjoying this game more than he expected.

"You've got me hooked, keep playing, Velvet. I'll figure you out." Her heart races, a wild drumbeat she can't quiet

"Hah! Maybe I'll let you try. But don't think you're gonna win this," a reply from ShyVelvet popped. He laughs softly, running a hand through his hair.

Ishaan replies back "Oh, I love a fight. Keep hiding, I'll trace and unmask you."

She bites her lip, a thrill zipping through her veins. The heat pooling in her belly scares her, she should stop, delete this, go back to her quiet life.

But she can't. Not yet. She replied, "Keep dreaming, stalker. I'm a ghost you'll never catch. Prepare to get haunted. Like what you do to others."

Across town, Ishaan sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the phone's glow catching the sweat on his abs. The message from ShyVelvet stopped him cold

Ishaan froze, rereading her message. "What the fuck?" he muttered. "This doesn't sound like Madhuri. Who else, if not her?" His mind spun, excitement and confusion tangling together.

"The girl next door? The girl from the library? Who could it be?"

A laugh escaped him, awed, unsteady. "Shit," he breathed, staring at the screen, his cocky edge shaken.

DevilzMask: "You're good, I'll bite you soon." He hit send, his mind racing. Someone was fucking with him, and he didn't know the board yet.

Madhuri's phone buzzed, but she didn't answer. "Haha... I'll let him squirm," she muttered, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

She locked her phone, and slid into bed. Her body hummed, alive in a way it hadn't been in years. She'd stepped into the abyss, not as prey, but as a player and felt dangerously good.

[Steel]

Abhi jolted awake next morning, his phone buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. A barrage of texts from Ishaan lit up the screen, sharp and relentless:

"New player, bro, someone's on my stalker account. I doubt it's your slutty mom. Find out NOW."

He blinked, groggy, the words sinking in slow. "Stalker account? New player? My... mom?" His stomach twisted. "He must be lying," he thought, shoving off the covers.

But doubt gnawed at him as he stumbled to the living room, heart hammering.

Madhuri stood at the stove, flipping parathas, the sizzle of oil filling the kitchen. She'd swapped her usual black blouse and pants for a loose red kurta, casual but striking. She hummed softly, a faint smile curling her lips, and Abhi froze. She looked... different. Lighter. Too light for their usual mornings.

He cleared his throat, voice small. "Maa, uh... did you sleep okay?"

She glanced over, nodding. "Yes, sweetie," she said breezily. "A lot better than usual." Her tone was happy, but her eyes flicked away, a secret dancing in them.

He sat, picking at his breakfast, "Anyone... called or anything?" he ventured, clumsy, fishing.

Madhuri's hand paused mid-flip, her brow creasing. "Why are you asking?" she asked sharply. Abhi shrank under her gaze. "Just... wondering," he mumbled, looking down.

She stared, then shrugged. "No calls, Abhi. Eat quickly and go to your classes." She turned back to the stove, but the air shifted, her guard was up, and he felt it.

At college, Ishaan cornered him in a corridor. "Spill it, bro, is she texting anyone?" His voice was low, urgent, his usual swagger cracked.

Abhi blinked, confused. "Texting? I don't know, she didn't say anything."

Ishaan cut him off, leaning in. "Some chick's on my stalker account, ShyVelvet. I seriously doubt it's your mom! You understand?"

Abhi shook his head, panic rising. "No, Ishaan. I don't think so!"

Ishaan's eyes narrowed, then softened, a grin creeping back. "Fine. You're gonna find out. Check her phone tonight. I need proof." He clapped Abhi's shoulder, hard, and walked off, leaving him reeling.

"Mom's really texting someone?" Abhi's mind spun. She'd been off lately. "Was it her?"

[Steel]

That night, Madhuri sat in the living room, scrolling her main phone while Ramesh dozed on the recliner. Abhi lingered nearby, pretending to read, darting his eyes.

She laughed softly at something, typing fast, and he edged closer. Then he saw it, a second phone, older, cracked screen, tucked beside her on the couch.

His breath caught. "Two phones? Since when?"

He waited, heart pounding, until she stood, leaving it behind to grab water. He lunged, snatched it, swiping to Instagram, ShyVelvet, logged in, and saw a chat open with DevilzMask. He scanned fast, "I'll bite you soon", and saw her unsent draft:

"Maybe I'm closer than you think, stalker. Guess me first."

His hands shook. "It was her," he muttered, "playing him back." He snapped a photo of the screen, shoving the phone back as she returned, oblivious, humming again.

Ishaan's text came late, sharp and demanding: "What's taking you so long, you little schmuck."

Abhi sent the screenshot, fingers trembling as he typed: "Wait. I got it, it's her. ShyVelvet. She's the one messing with you."

Across town, Ishaan froze, his phone lighting up his grin. "Holy fuck," he laughed, a low, wicked sound, running a hand through his hair.

"Crazy to think a dimwit's mom pulled that off! Your innocent little mommy's been hiding well." he sent to Abhi.

Abhi's reply came shaky: "Stop it, Ishaan! This is messed up. Why'd you make me do this? I didn't want to know this crap."

Ishaan: "Relax, dumbass. You did what I asked. She's been playing a game with me, but the ball is my court now, and you're gonna watch me win."

Ishaan leaned back, smirking. "Didn't think she had it in her. Guess she's not so boring after all."

Abhi held his head, the pull of this dark thrill undeniable, a drug he couldn't quit.

But then the thought hit: "She'd kill me if she knew I'm behind this."

Upstairs, Madhuri smirked at her alt phone, finally sending that draft to DevilzMask: "Maybe I'm closer than you think, stalker. Guess me first." A subtle jab tying back to his earlier taunt, "Keep me close, I'll show you more." She locked it away in her drawer, pride swelling.

She'd turned the tables, or so she thought. Across town, Ishaan's grin widened too. Her game. Her moves. And now, he held the strings. The mask was fully on now, grinning in the dark, ready to strike back.

(End of Chapter)

[Steel]

Chapter 3: Digital Dance

Abhi's screenshot had blown Ishaan's mind. She was clever, juggling two accounts simultaneously, but he held both strings now, more cruel than ever.

Madhuri woke up fresh, Ramesh's snores rumbled on, oblivious to the storm brewing next to him. She opened her drawer, her hands toggling between two phones. On her main, she'd unblocked DevilzMask, his reply left unanswered.

She switched to ShyVelvet, and stared at her last message: "Maybe I'm closer than you think, stalker. Guess me first." No reply yet.

She savoured the upper hand, but now the itch grew, her body betraying her resolve.

She typed slowly, deliberately. "Hello stalker, good morning. You've been quiet lately. Scared of the challenge?" Her thumb hovered, then pressed send and leaned back, waiting.

Ishaan reclined on his bed, fingers drumming the sheets in anticipation. The taunt popped up on Ishaan’s phone, and his dick twitched. 

"No one's gonna stop me from doing what I'm about to do to you, Aunty," he laughed under his breath.

Texting her main, he typed fast. "Good morning Madhuri, sorry to disturb you, just couldn't keep quiet. Especially after watching you in that kurta yesterday. Bet it feels nice hugging you tight." He hit send, leaning back with a predator's patience.

Madhuri's main phone buzzed, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Idiot! Why's he texting my main again? and how does he know what I'm wearing everyday?" she muttered and fired back quickly.

"Don't you understand. This is harassment. Leave me alone."

Her alt stayed silent, no buzz, no reply, and the ache in her sharpened, a hunger she couldn't voice on her main.

She switched again, typing. "Ignoring me, huh? Guess you're not worth my time." She sent it, leaning back, thighs pressing together under the nightie as the humid air clung tighter.

Ishaan ignored her alt entirely. "Perfect, let her stew," he thought, picturing her frustration.

He fired back at her main instead. "Leave you? I'm afraid I can't. You're in my head, all day, yet all that beauty, wasted on a snoring fool."

Madhuri read it, the truth in his words hit her like a cruel jab she couldn't dodge, and she typed back, furious. "Shut up! You know nothing about my life." 

But her fingers lingered on her alt, waiting for his reply there. Silence greeted her instead, leaving her confused, dangling on his hook.

[Steel]

Downstairs, Abhi sank into the bed, staring at a wall. Ishaan's smug face flashed in his mind. He'd handed his mom over to Ishaan, and the thrill of it, dark and undeniable, mixed with a gnawing dread.

Upstairs, Madhuri's smirk returned as she stared at her alt. Though he'd gone quiet, she felt the power and control.

The morning spilled soft light into the kitchen as Abhi shuffled in and sat near a table with bleary eyes. Madhuri stood at the stove, flipping dosas.

She hummed a playful tune with light movements, like some invisible weight had slipped off her shoulders. 

He watched her with her secret burning in his gut.

"Had a good sleep, Maa?" he asked with a tight voice.

She nodded, flashing a smile. "Yeah, sweetie, you?"

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes, "Me too."

The doorbell cut through the moment, sharp and sudden. Madhuri wiped her hands on a towel and opened it to Ishaan, his grin wide and unannounced.

"Hello, aunty! Abhi said you're free, thought I'd drop by," he chirped, stepping in.

His tee clung to his chest, and Madhuri blinked, caught off-guard. "Ohh hi, Ishaan, come in," she said, stepping aside, her smile polite but edged with wariness.

Abhi glared, hissing under his breath, "I didn't say that!" But Ishaan just winked, striding past like he owned the place.

"Smells like heaven again," Ishaan said entering the dining area, sniffing the air, his gaze sliding over her kurta, subtle, but hungry. "You're spoiling us."

Madhuri laughed, brushing it off. "Don't you start again. Sit, wanna have a dosa?" She plated one and handed it over, his fingers grazing hers, deliberate, slow.

"Thanks, aunty. You're too good to us," he said, his voice dipping into a thrilling edge that made her hand falter, a flicker of heat sparking in her chest. 

She hid it fast, turning back to the stove.

Abhi watched with fists clenched under the table. Ishaan's charm, his mom's flush, right before his eyes, it was too much. "We've got to complete our assignment," he blurted, standing abruptly, but Ishaan waved him off.

"Chill, bro, let me enjoy this first." He bit into the dosa, moaning loud and exaggerated. "Fuck! Oops, sorry, aunty, but this is the best thing I've tasted."

Madhuri swatted his arm, laughing despite herself. "Watch that mouth!" But her eyes lingered a beat too long, catching the flex of his biceps under her touch, and Abhi's stomach twisted.

[Steel]

Ishaan stayed an hour, filling the kitchen with chatter, praising her cooking, dropping flirty jabs she deflected with playful scolds.

"You're a trouble, Ishaan," she said as he headed for the door, her tone teasing, light.

"Only the good kind, aunty," he grinned back, stepping out slowly.

The door clicked shut, and Madhuri leaned against it, her breath uneven. Ishaan's energy lingered, bold, young, stirring her in ways she couldn't voice. It reminded her of the stalker, that same electric pull. 

Her alt buzzed in her mind, silent, ignored, and the ache grew, her fingers itching to break free.

She pulled out the old phone, and typed fast. "Still scared, stalker? I'm waiting." She sent it, her pride bending under a need she couldn't name, pulsing hot beneath her skin.

Ishaan on the way back saw the message pop up and smirked. 

He flipped to her main account, where she'd last snapped, "You know nothing about my life."

His fingers danced over the keys. "I know everything, dear, you're really gorgeous in blue today." Madhuri's main buzzed, and she scoffed, the sound sharp in the empty kitchen.

"How'd he know?" she wondered and quickly scanned her surroundings, looked outside the windows to find no one.

A secret smile tugged at her lips, buried fast under a scowl as she stared at the screen, window left opened, and she was caught between fury and a flicker of something darker, something alive.