Fantasy Devika, a rich high class housewife, with angel heart

[prady12191]

The tension hung thick between them, heavy as monsoon clouds. Vishnu's gaze dropped, lingering on the soft curve of her cleavage. Devika shifted uneasily, her cheeks warm as she crossed her arms to shield her bust. The more she tried to cover herself, the more his eyes darkened with hunger.

"Don't hide from me," Vishnu said, leaning in closer, his voice firm yet low. "I want to feel your hips."

Devika's eyes widened, shock rippling through her. "I told you not to touch me. Looking is all I agreed to."

"How can I control myself after seeing you like this?" His voice carried an edge of desperation. "You're standing right in front of me, saree pulled down... I can't just look anymore."

"This is exactly why I didn't want to agree to your request in the first place," Devika said, her voice strained with frustration. "I knew this would happen."

"Please," Vishnu begged, his eyes never leaving hers. "Just once. I won't ask for anything else."

The desperation in his voice—the raw need—stirred something forgotten inside her. When was the last time someone had wanted her this badly? When had Rajeevan last looked at her with such unbridled desire?

"Fine," she whispered, the word escaping before she could reconsider. "But just... be quick about it."

Triumph flashed across his face. Vishnu reached out, hesitant at first, then placed his hands on her hips. The warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her saree, sending an unexpected jolt through her body.

"Your hips are so hot," he murmured, his voice thick with awe. "Such a sexy shape."

Devika stood frozen, acutely aware of her surroundings—the cramped toilet stall, the graffiti-covered walls, the faint smell of disinfectant. The absurdity of allowing her student to touch her hips in the boys' toilet struck her suddenly. What had her life become?

His fingers pressed deeper into her flesh, kneading gently. A soft moan escaped his lips as his hands moved around to the small of her back, tracing the curves there, feeling the delicate folds where her back met her hips.

"So perfect," he whispered, his breath warm against her neck.

In his office, Seenu leaned closer to the monitor, his breathing shallow. The CCTV footage showed Vishnu's hands roaming freely over Devika's body—those curves he'd only fantasized about touching. "Lucky bastard," he muttered, unable to tear his eyes away. "Getting to feel those sexy hips..."

Back in the toilet, Vishnu's exploration grew bolder. He brought one finger forward, pressing it slowly into her navel. The unexpected intimacy made Devika gasp. A warmth spread between her thighs, her body betraying her mind's protestations.

"Such a deep, round navel," Vishnu observed, his voice hushed with reverence. "So perfect."

A soft sound escaped Devika's throat—not quite a moan, but something dangerously close. She couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't face the satisfaction she knew would be written across his features. Her eyelids fluttered closed, surrendering to the sensation.

Vishnu circled his finger inside her navel, feeling the heat radiating from her core. The intimate touch sent waves of forbidden pleasure through her body. Devika instinctively pulled her stomach inward, trying to retreat from the overwhelming sensation. She pressed back, only to find herself against the dirty wall of the toilet stall, trapped between cold tiles and his warm touch.

"Don't pull away," Vishnu whispered. "You like this, don't you?"

The question hung in the air between them, unanswered yet understood.

Seenu's eyes were glued to the screen, watching Vishnu's finger disappear into Devika's navel. "God," he muttered to himself, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "He's actually putting his finger into her navel. So damn sexy to watch."

The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken desires. Devika felt herself balanced on a precipice—one step away from falling completely into a darkness from which she might never return. The sensation of his finger tracing lazy circles in her navel sent shivers racing up her spine, awakening parts of her that had long been dormant.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, finally finding her voice. "This is wrong."

But she made no move to stop him.

"Then why does it feel so right?" Vishnu countered, his finger still exploring the depth of her navel.

The question pierced through her defenses. Why indeed? Why did the touch of this young man—her student—make her feel more alive than she had in months? Why did the wrongness of it all only heighten the pleasure?

In the dim light of the boys' toilet, surrounded by crude graffiti and the ghosts of her former principles, Devika stood at a crossroads. The woman she had been—principled, professional, proper—seemed to be slipping away with each circle of Vishnu's finger, with each forbidden touch.

And somewhere, deep inside, a part of her was relieved to let that woman go.

[prady12191]

Vishnu remained kneeling before Devika, his hands gripping her hips with possessive intensity. The dim lighting in the boys' toilet cast shadows across his upturned face as he gazed at her exposed midriff. His eyes lingered on her navel, dark with desire.

"I want to kiss your navel," he said, his voice low and husky. "Please, madam. Just once."

Devika kept her eyes closed, unable to witness her own surrender. The weight of shame and forbidden excitement pressed down on her chest, making each breath laborious. She'd come too far to turn back now—first with Pathan in the lab, and now here with Vishnu.

"I know you keep asking for more favors," she said, resignation evident in her tone. "Anyway, you won't leave me alone until I fulfill your wishes. What can I do?" Her voice carried a mixture of sadness and confusion, a woman losing grip on the boundaries she once held sacred.

Vishnu's face lit up with triumph. "Thank you, madam. Thank you."

He removed his hands from her navel, a momentary relief that quickly disappeared as he repositioned his grip on her bare hips. The feel of her smooth skin beneath his palms made him shudder with anticipation. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh, testing its give, memorizing its contours.

In his office, Seenu leaned forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the CCTV monitor. His brow furrowed in confusion as he watched Vishnu kneel before Devika. What was the boy doing? The angle of the camera couldn't capture everything, but Seenu could clearly see Vishnu's hands holding Devika's hips, his face level with her midriff.

Back in the toilet, Vishnu gazed at Devika's navel with rapt attention. The small depression in her smooth stomach seemed to beckon him, an intimate space he'd dreamed of exploring.

"Such a sexy figure you have," he whispered reverently. "All men would die for such a navel."

For the first time since this encounter began, a faint smile tugged at Devika's lips. The compliment—crude as it was—struck something deep within her. When was the last time someone had looked at her body with such open admiration? When had Rajeevan last noticed her, really noticed her?

Vishnu leaned forward and blew gently into her navel. The sudden cool sensation against her warm skin drew an unexpected moan from Devika's throat. The sound echoed softly against the tiled walls of the toilet, a forbidden melody that made Vishnu's grip tighten reflexively.

He pressed his nose against her belly, inhaling deeply. The scent of her—a mixture of subtle perfume, soap, and something uniquely feminine—filled his nostrils. His eyes closed in ecstasy.

"Your smell is making me mad," he groaned, his voice muffled against her skin. "You smell so perfect."

Slowly, with reverence bordering on worship, he pressed his lips against her navel. The contact was electric. Devika gasped, her body tensing at the intimate touch. Vishnu pressed his face more firmly into her waist, his lips exploring the sensitive depression of her navel.

The assault of sensations became too much for Devika to bear standing. Her hand instinctively reached down to grasp his hair, steadying herself against the onslaught of forbidden pleasure. Her fingers tangled in his thick strands, not pushing him away but holding him in place—an unconscious betrayal of her stated boundaries.

Vishnu's hands pressed harder into her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh with increasing urgency.

"Ouch!" Devika moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure in a confusing cocktail of sensations.

"Super, madam," Vishnu murmured between kisses. "Your navel is perfect."

Seenu could now understand what was happening. The boy had knelt to kiss her navel—a level of intimacy that shocked even him. His mouth went dry as he watched Vishnu's face buried against Devika's stomach, her hands in his hair. A wave of jealousy washed over him, followed by a surge of arousal so intense it made him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Vishnu pressed his cheek against Devika's waist, rubbing slowly against the smooth skin. "So soft," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Devika felt the scratch of his beard stubble against her sensitive skin, a masculine roughness that contrasted sharply with her softness. The textural difference sent shivers racing up her spine, igniting nerve endings she'd forgotten existed.

He buried his face deeper into her waist, rubbing his features against her as if trying to imprint himself on her skin. "Sexy teacher," he moaned, his voice vibrating against her flesh. "Such a sexy woman. Your husband doesn't know your value."

The mention of Rajeevan cut through Devika's haze of sensation. "Don't talk about my husband," she said sharply, a flicker of her former authority returning.

"If I were your husband," Vishnu continued, ignoring her protest, "I would kiss this navel daily."

The statement sent an uncomfortable shiver through Devika. A student thinking of himself as her husband—the impropriety of it should have disgusted her completely. Instead, she found herself imagining such a reality, where someone would worship her body with this level of devotion every day.

Before she could fully process this troubling thought, Vishnu's mouth became more insistent. His kisses grew vigorous, passionate, desperate. His teeth grazed her skin, and suddenly he bit down on the soft flesh of her waist.

"Ah!" Devika cried out, more surprised than hurt. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry," Vishnu mumbled against her skin, not sounding sorry at all. "I got carried away."

As his mouth continued its exploration, Devika's mind wandered to her encounter with Pathan in the lab. If Vishnu had asked for a kiss on the lips instead, would she have agreed? After allowing Pathan to claim her mouth, would she have surrendered her lips to Vishnu as well? The realization that she probably would have shook her to her core.

And this—this intimate worship of her navel—was somehow more invasive than what Pathan had done. More personal, more degrading, and yet infinitely more arousing.

Vishnu's mouth moved with increasing hunger, sucking at the flesh around her navel, leaving small red marks that would fade before anyone could see them—physical evidence of her fall from grace. His tongue circled her navel before dipping inside, exploring the small depression like a snail seeking shelter.

The wetness of his mouth, the heat of his breath, the soft suction of his lips—all combined to create a maelstrom of sensation that had Devika unconsciously rubbing her thighs together, seeking relief from the building pressure between her legs.

"Be my wife," Vishnu murmured between kisses. "I want to suck this navel daily."

The absurdity of the request broke through Devika's sensual fog. "I can't be your wife," she said, her voice strained. "I'm already married. Stop kissing me now."

But Vishnu showed no signs of stopping. His mouth continued its devoted exploration, his tongue delving into her navel again and again, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin until Devika felt her knees weakening beneath her.

The entire surface of her waist glistened with his saliva, her navel filled with the warm wetness of his mouth. The physical evidence of his desire for her was painted across her skin, marking her as thoroughly as any wedding ritual could have.

"Madam, you're lean," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "but you have enough flesh in all the right places to make men of any age go mad for your body."

The crude compliment should have offended her professional sensibilities. Instead, it stirred something primal within her—a feminine pride in her power to drive men to such distraction. Coming from her student—this young man who had his pick of girls his own age—the words carried a weight that similar compliments from older men like Seenu never could.

In his office, Seenu could barely contain himself. His hand moved to the front of his pants, rubbing against his erection through the fabric. The sight of Vishnu's face buried in Devika's waist, her hands in his hair, her body responding to his touch—it was the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed.

"I'll stop kissing," Vishnu said, his mouth still pressed against her navel, "only if you agree to be my wife."

"No," Devika protested, trying to push him away. Her hands pressed against his shoulders, but her effort lacked conviction.

Vishnu looked up at her, his lips wet with saliva, his eyes burning with determination. "Devika, you are my wife."

The sound of her name—not "madam" or "professor" but her given name—spoken with such intimate possession sent a shock through her system. The boundary between teacher and student had not just been crossed; it had been obliterated completely.

Desperate to end this encounter before she lost herself entirely, Devika made a calculated surrender. "Fine, Vishnu. My husband, stop kissing. Your wife needs rest."

A triumphant smile spread across Vishnu's face. He pressed one final, lingering kiss against her navel before rising to his feet. "Thanks, baby," he said, his voice tender with newfound intimacy. "Love you, Devika darling. My sexy wife." He sealed his declaration with a last, quick kiss to her navel.

Devika stood frozen, her saree disheveled, her midriff glistening with the evidence of Vishnu's passion. What had she done? In trying to end this inappropriate encounter, had she inadvertently opened the door to something far more dangerous? By playing along with his fantasy, had she established a new reality between them—one where he truly believed he had some claim on her?

The air in the toilet stall felt suddenly stifling. The smell of disinfectant mixed with the musky scent of arousal made her stomach turn. The graffiti on the walls—crude drawings and vulgar phrases—seemed to mock her fall from grace.

"We should go," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she adjusted her saree, covering the damp skin of her waist. "Someone might come in."

Vishnu's eyes followed her movements, watching as the fabric concealed the territory he now considered his own. "Yes," he agreed, but made no move toward the door. "Devika?"

The use of her name again—so intimate, so presumptuous—made her flinch. "Don't call me that," she said. "I'm still your teacher."

"But you just agreed to be my wife," he countered, confusion clouding his features.

"That was just..." Devika trailed off, unsure how to explain. How could she tell him she had only said what was necessary to end the encounter? That she had played along with his fantasy to escape a situation spiraling out of control? "That was just words, Vishnu. I'm married to someone else. I'm your teacher. What happened here was inappropriate and can never happen again."

A shadow passed over Vishnu's face. The boyish triumph gave way to something harder, colder. "You didn't seem to think it was inappropriate when my tongue was in your navel," he said, his voice low. "You didn't push me away then."

Guilt washed over Devika, because he was right. She hadn't pushed him away. She had held his hair, moaned at his touch, allowed him liberties no student should ever take with a teacher. Worse, she had enjoyed it—the forbidden nature of their encounter adding a spice that had been missing from her life for far too long.

"This was a mistake," she said finally, straightening her shoulders and attempting to reclaim some semblance of authority. "One that won't be repeated."

"We'll see," Vishnu replied, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My wife."

The possessive declaration hung in the air between them as Devika pushed past him and out of the toilet stall. Her legs trembled beneath her, weak from the intensity of what had transpired. Her waist still felt warm where his mouth had been, her skin sensitized by his attention.

As she hurried down the corridor, she could feel Vishnu's eyes on her back, following her retreat. The weight of his gaze seemed to burn through her saree, branding her as his property. The sensation was both terrifying and thrilling—a contradiction that summed up everything she had become since arriving in Pune.

In his office, Seenu switched off the monitor, his breathing ragged, his body still tense with unfulfilled desire. He had witnessed something he was never meant to see—an intimate moment between a teacher and student that crossed every professional boundary.

The knowledge gave him power, but it also gave him ideas. If Vishnu could reduce the proper, professional Devika to such a state of surrender, what might Seenu himself accomplish with the right approach?

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he would call Devika to his office for a "performance review." And perhaps, if fortune favored him, he too would discover the taste of her navel, the softness of her waist, the sound of her forbidden moans.

As Devika reached the staff room, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window. Her hair was slightly mussed, her lips parted, her eyes wide with lingering shock. But beyond the physical signs of her encounter, there was something else—something new in her expression. A knowledge of her own power, a recognition of the desire she could inspire.

For the first time since coming to Pune, Devika didn't feel like a victim. She felt dangerous.

[Prabhas Rasigan]

How did the camera come in student toilet. Is that vishnu used his phone to telecast to seenu.

[Sage_69]

After a long break, came a long update. Loved it. Devika is loosing the control of the situation. Wanna see how deep she will fall.

[Prabhas Rasigan]

She easily gives up and she is a slutty heart and not angel heart. Looks like every person who eyes her will get a chance on her. like seenu, ramlal etc. waiting to see how she transforms to a roadside whore. good going.

[jaksa]

20 sooo nice

[Thilka]

Great update

[StoryReader1]

Pl cont

[Srikanthitis]

The Best Story is back... Thanks a ton mate

[Mahesh]

So good

[unknownperson]

Waiting for episode of Ramlal and her mangoes .....

 

[prady12191]

The college hallway felt different this morning—too bright, too exposed. Devika adjusted her saree, ensuring it was wrapped high above her waist, properly tucked and pinned. Her hands kept checking the pleats nervously as she walked toward her classroom.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Seenu: Need to see you in my office immediately. Syllabus matter.

Devika stared at the screen, hesitation creeping up her spine. After yesterday with Vishnu, every interaction felt loaded with hidden meanings. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and changed direction toward the HOD's office.

Seenu looked up from his computer when she knocked, his glasses reflecting the blue light of whatever he'd been viewing. He quickly minimized the window.

Seenu: "Ah, Devika. Good morning. Please come in."

His eyes traveled down her figure as she entered, lingering momentarily at her waist before returning to her face. Devika felt exposed despite her carefully arranged saree.

Devika: "You wanted to see me about the syllabus?"

Seenu: "Yes, yes. We need to reorganize the reference books according to the new curriculum. I've been meaning to do this for weeks."

He gestured toward several shelves of biology texts across his office, some stacked haphazardly.

Seenu: "Would you mind helping? Your expertise would make this go much faster."

Devika nodded, eager to complete the task and leave. She moved toward the lower shelves, beginning to sort through molecular biology textbooks.

Seenu: "So, how are your special students doing? Vishnu in particular."

The textbook in Devika's hands nearly slipped. She tightened her grip, keeping her expression neutral.

Devika: "Why do you ask about Vishnu specifically?"

Seenu: "Just curious. He seems to be... benefiting from your teaching methods."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. Devika turned back to the books, uncomfortable heat spreading across her face.

Devika: "He's doing fine. All the students are progressing well."

Seenu: "You know, some teachers just lecture. But you... you really give them individual attention."

Devika concentrated on alphabetizing the genetics section, ignoring the implications in his tone. As she stretched to reach higher shelves, she felt her saree begin to loosen slightly. The careful tuck at her waist shifted with her movements.

Seenu: "Those books on the top shelf need organizing too. The taxonomy references."

Devika glanced up. The shelf was directly above where Seenu sat, his chair pushed back just enough that she would need to reach over him to access it.

Devika: "Perhaps you could—"

She stopped herself. Asking him to move would only draw attention, make it seem like she was uncomfortable around him. Which she was, but admitting that felt dangerous somehow.

Instead, she approached cautiously, stretching up on her toes to reach the shelf above his head. Her saree, already loosened from her earlier movements, slipped further. She felt the cool air of the air-conditioned office against her exposed midriff.

Seenu went completely still. From his position below, her navel was directly in his line of sight. Devika reached further, trying to grasp a book while maintaining distance, but the shelf was deep. She could feel his gaze like a physical touch, his breath warm against her skin.

She finally grabbed the book she needed and quickly stepped back, adjusting her saree with her free hand. Seenu's eyes remained fixed on her waist, following the movement of her fingers as they tucked the fabric back into place.

Seenu: "Your Kerala dbanging style is... unique. Most women here don't know how to carry a saree with such grace."

Devika moved to another shelf, putting distance between them. She arranged books methodically, trying to work quickly.

Devika: "There are more books on this high shelf. Could you hand me that stool?"

Instead of passing the small stool that sat in the corner, Seenu stood up.

Seenu: "Let me help you. We'll finish faster if we work together."

Before she could protest, he positioned himself behind her as she stretched toward the top shelf. His chest pressed against her back as he reached up, ostensibly to help her with a heavy volume. The unexpected contact made her freeze.

Seenu: "Just steadying you," he murmured, his voice uncomfortably close to her ear.

His body pressed closer, his groin brushing against her. Devika felt trapped between the bookshelf and his body. His hand covered hers as they both held the same book, his other hand settling on her waist.

She inhaled sharply, catching the scent of his cologne mixed with the mustiness of old books. His face hovered near her neck, and she felt rather than heard his deep inhalation as he breathed in her scent.

Devika: "What are you doing?"

She stepped sideways, breaking the contact and clutching the book to her chest like a shield.

Seenu: "Working together. That's all."

His expression was perfectly innocent, but his eyes betrayed him—dark and hungry. Devika set the book down with unsteady hands.

Devika: "I think we've organized enough for today. I should prepare for my next class."

She gathered her things, moving toward the door. Seenu watched her retreat, leaning against his desk.

Seenu: "Vishnu is a fortunate young man to have such dedicated attention from you."

Devika paused at the door, uncertain of his meaning.

Seenu: "For his studies, of course. Your... special tutoring sessions must be very educational."

A chill ran through her. Did he know? Her hand tightened on the doorknob.

Devika: "I treat all my students with the same professional care."

Seenu: "Of course you do."

His eyes dropped deliberately to her waist, then back to her face. As Devika hurried from the office, she felt his gaze follow her all the way down the corridor, lingering on the sway of her hips with each step.

[prady12191]

After Devika left, Seenu stared at the closed door for several seconds, his breathing uneven. The scent of her jasmine perfume still lingered in the air. With trembling fingers, he locked his office door and returned to his desk, where he quickly opened his laptop.

He clicked on a minimized window—security footage from the boys' restroom. The black and white video showed Vishnu pulling at Devika's saree, exposing her waist. Seenu's eyes darkened as he watched Devika's initial protest fade into acquiescence. His hands moved beneath the desk as he watched Vishnu's fingers trace her navel, the Kerala woman's face transforming from reluctance to something else entirely.

"So this is what you've been doing with your students," he whispered to the screen, jerking rhythmically as Vishnu's mouth moved toward Devika's exposed skin.



The practical lab hummed with fluorescent lights and the soft bubbling of chemical solutions. Devika entered with her notes clutched tightly against her chest, a shield against what awaited her. She paused at the doorway—Pathan and Vishnu were already there, arranging microscopes at separate tables.

"Good afternoon, madam," Vishnu called with a casual smile that betrayed nothing of their encounter in the boys' toilet.

Pathan merely nodded, his eyes tracing the carefully wrapped pleats of her saree. Devika felt heat rise to her face, memories of his lips pressed against hers in this very lab flooding back unbidden.

"Today we're examining bacterial cultures," she announced, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. "Please prepare your slides according to page 83."

She moved through the lab, placing her notes on the desk, keeping her movements deliberately professional. How could she face these boys after what had happened? Her fingers trembled slightly as she arranged the specimen cultures.

When Vishnu announced he needed to collect additional materials from the storage room, Devika felt a momentary relief. She bent over a microscope, adjusting the focus, trying to lose herself in the familiar task.

She didn't hear Pathan approach until his chest pressed against her back, his arms sliding around her to place his hands over hers on the microscope. His breath was warm against her neck.

"What are you—" she began, freezing in place.

"Just helping you check the component, madam," he whispered, his body molding perfectly against her curved form. "Don't worry, Vishnu went to pick up materials."

Devika tried to stand upright, but Pathan maintained his position, his arms creating a cage around her. The heat of his body seeped through her thin cotton saree.

"Move back, Pathan," she hissed, finally finding her voice. "This is completely inappropriate."

"Please, madam. Just stay like this for a moment," he pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Remember our kiss in this lab? I can't stop thinking about it."

"That wasn't me," Devika said, her voice shaking. "You kissed me. I just... forgot myself."

"Maybe," he conceded, "but you kissed me back. I felt it. I can't forget the taste of your lips."

Devika could feel something hard pressing against her from behind, and realized with horror that Pathan was becoming aroused. Worse still, he began to subtly move his hips, creating a gentle pressure against her.

"Stop this immediately," she whispered harshly, horrified at what was happening in the middle of the college laboratory. "I am your professor."

"I know," he breathed into her ear. "That's what makes it so exciting."

His hands slid from the microscope to her waist, fingers splaying across her midriff. "Yesterday I watched a movie where the hero tasted the heroine... just like how we kissed in the lab."

"Pathan, you need to stop. Vishnu might return any moment."

His grip tightened slightly. "So you're worried about getting caught, not about what I'm doing?" A note of triumph entered his voice. "Don't worry, Vishnu will take time. I made sure of it."

Devika felt trapped between the laboratory bench and Pathan's body, her mind racing with conflicting emotions—fear, outrage, and something else she couldn't name.

"Before I go," he whispered, "I need just one more kiss."

Before she could react, Pathan turned her head with gentle pressure and captured her lips with his. The familiar taste of paan invaded her senses as he gave her quick, eager sucks on her upper and lower lips. For a heartbeat, Devika found herself responding, her lips moving against his—then reality crashed back.

She pulled away just as footsteps sounded in the corridor. Pathan stepped back quickly, moving to his workstation with practiced casualness. When Vishnu entered with a box of slides, Devika was still standing by the microscope, her fingers pressed against her tingling lips, shock written across her face.

"Found them, madam," Vishnu announced, glancing between her and Pathan with shrewd eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Devika smoothed her saree with trembling hands. "Yes, just... continue with your work. I need to check something in my notes."

As she retreated to her desk, Devika caught Pathan's subtle smile of satisfaction. Her world had tilted on its axis, and she wasn't sure how to right it again. The taste of paan lingered on her lips, and the imprint of his body against hers seemed burned into her skin.

What terrified her most wasn't what had happened—but that some small, secret part of her had responded to his touch.

In the days that followed, something shifted in the delicate power balance between Devika and her two persistent students. What had begun as isolated incidents morphed into a dangerous daily ritual, with both young men growing increasingly emboldened.

The morning after the toilet encounter, Pathan spotted Devika entering the staffroom. While other professors chatted nearby, he caught her eye from across the room and brazenly puckered his lips, blowing a silent kiss. Devika froze, her eyes darting around to see if anyone noticed. When she glared at him in warning, he merely smiled, his eyebrows rising in innocent question as if asking her to respond in kind.

"Good morning, madam," he called out loudly, making other faculty members turn. "Hope you're feeling well today."

Beneath his innocent greeting, his lips formed the words "I miss your taste" where only she could see. Devika hurriedly looked away, her hands trembling as she arranged her notes.

Later that day, while passing her in a crowded corridor between classes, Pathan deliberately brushed against her. In the momentary contact, he pressed his saliva-coated finger against her lips, rubbing it across them before disappearing into the crowd.

Devika stood shocked, the taste of his saliva lingering on her lips, mingling with the paan he habitually chewed. She wiped her mouth furiously, but the violation had already occurred—in plain sight, with students and faculty moving around them.

Vishnu employed different tactics. During her lecture, he would stare unblinkingly at her waist, his eyes tracing the outline of her navel beneath her saree. When she caught him looking, he would form a circle with his finger and thumb, then slowly insert his index finger from his other hand through the hole—a crude mimicry of his actions in the toilet.

Once, while submitting an assignment, he whispered, "I can still feel how warm it was inside, madam," his eyes fixed on her midriff.

By Thursday, Devika felt besieged from all sides. In the cafeteria, she watched Pathan enter with his friends. Their eyes met, and before she could look away, he ran his tongue slowly across his lips. The gesture was so blatant that several students turned to see what had caught his attention.

Instead of shrinking away, something snapped inside Devika. If they were determined to play this game, perhaps she should take control of the rules.

The next time Pathan blew her a virtual kiss from across the staffroom, she surprised him by subtly puckering her lips in return, then offering a seductive smile that made him nearly drop his books. His shock was evident—he had expected resistance, not reciprocation.

During a practical session where Vishnu kept making suggestive gestures about her navel, Devika deliberately raised her arms to reach for equipment on a high shelf, knowing her saree would rise slightly above her waist. She locked eyes with him as she did so, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

On Friday, when Pathan lingered after class with another of his virtual kisses, Devika took her index finger and slowly put it into her mouth, sucking it gently while maintaining eye contact. His eyes widened, and for once, he was the one who looked away first, visibly affected by her bold response.

"What's wrong, Pathan?" she asked innocently. "You seem distracted today."

"N-nothing, madam," he stammered, his confident facade crumbling.

That afternoon in the cafeteria, she spotted Vishnu watching her from a distance. With deliberate slowness, she unwrapped a lollipop, placed it between her lips, and began to suck it methodically, her eyes never leaving his. She swirled her tongue around the candy, taking her time, making a performance of it. Vishnu sat transfixed, unable to move or look away.

Walking across campus afterward, she passed Pathan and his friends. She adjusted her saree, tucking it slightly lower on her waist, exposing more skin than usual. She placed her hand on her bare hip in a casual gesture that she knew would catch his attention.

But beneath these calculated moves, anger simmered. Each provocative response was designed not to encourage but to unsettle—to turn their game back on them. They had expected a frightened teacher, not a woman who would challenge their advances.


Devika closed her apartment door behind her, leaning against it as if to barricade herself from the world outside. The day's events swirled in her mind like a toxic whirlpool, pulling her deeper into confusion and self-loathing. She dragged herself to the sofa and collapsed, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

What had she become?

Three months ago, she'd arrived in Pune as a respected biology teacher with clear boundaries and professional dignity. Now she found herself playing dangerous games with students half her age, letting the college HOD press against her body, and responding to inappropriate touches with provocative gestures of her own.

Her mind replayed each mortifying scene: being trapped in the locked lab with Pathan, his hungry lips capturing hers as she froze in shock; Vishnu's bold demand to see her without her pallu in the boys' toilet, his fingers tracing her exposed navel; Seenu leaning against her as she reached for books, his arousal evident against her back as he asked pointed questions about her "special tutoring."

"How did I get here?" she whispered to the empty room.

The fight with Rajeevan had been the breaking point. That video of him with another woman had shattered something inside her—her trust, her dignity, her certainty about who she was. When he'd shouted at her instead of explaining, blaming her for doubting him, something fundamental had shifted in their relationship.

And then Saradha's advice echoed in her mind: "Why not make them desire you? Control their want instead of letting it control you."

Devika pressed her palms against her eyes, as if to block out the memory. But Saradha's words had taken root, offering a twisted solution to her powerlessness. Instead of being hunted, she would become the hunter. Instead of fearing their desire, she would weaponize it.

But today, watching Pathan brazenly blow kisses across the staffroom and Vishnu making crude gestures about her navel during lectures, she realized she'd lost control of the situation entirely. Her attempts to regain power by responding to their advances hadn't intimidated them—it had emboldened them further.

"I'm their teacher," she whispered, disgust rising in her throat. "What kind of teacher responds to a student's kiss? What kind of professional exposes herself in a college toilet?"

The anonymous message on her phone haunted her: "Don't start what you can't finish, madam." Someone was watching her performance with the lollipop, someone who knew her vulnerabilities and was eager to exploit them.

She thought about calling her mother in Kerala, hearing her gentle voice speaking traditional wisdom. What would Amma say if she knew her daughter was caught in this web of inappropriate relationships? The shame would kill her.

Devika stood on shaky legs and walked to her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked hollow, her lips still faintly swollen from Pathan's forceful kiss. She splashed cold water on her face repeatedly, scrubbing at her skin as if to wash away the memory of their touches.

"This has to stop," she told her reflection firmly. "I need to be the teacher they hired me to be, not this... this person I'm becoming."

But even as she made this resolution, doubt crept in. Would they accept her sudden change of behavior? Or would they expose her previous indiscretions, destroying her career and marriage in one blow? The thought of Rajeevan discovering what she'd done made her physically ill.

Devika returned to the living room and sank back onto the sofa, her head in her hands. She was trapped in a prison of her own making, with walls closing in from all sides. The control she thought she'd gained was merely an illusion—in reality, she'd given them more ammunition to use against her.

"I need to find a way out," she whispered, determination mingling with desperation in her voice. "I need to reclaim who I really am before I lose myself completely."

But as darkness fell outside her window, Devika wasn't sure if there was a path back to the woman she used to be—or if that woman even existed anymore.

The sleepless night left Devika hollow-eyed and numb as morning broke. Her reflection stared back at her—a stranger wearing her face, moving through motions that once felt natural but now seemed mechanical. The weight of her choices pressed down on her shoulders as she dbangd her pallu across them, adjusting her saree with trembling fingers.

She needed to talk to someone. The pressure building inside threatened to crack her completely.

After her first lecture, Devika found herself walking toward Saradha's office, her steps hesitant yet determined. Finding the door ajar, she saw Saradha arranging papers, her reading glasses perched on her nose.

Saradha: "Devika? You look terrible. Come in, close the door."

Devika shut the door behind her and sank into the chair opposite Saradha's desk. For a moment, she couldn't speak, her throat constricting around the words she needed to say.

Devika: "I don't know who I am anymore."

Saradha removed her glasses, studying Devika's face with calculated concern.

Saradha: "What happened?"

The dam broke. Words poured from Devika in a desperate flood.

Devika: "Seenu... he called me to his office yesterday. The way he looked at me... the way he pressed against me while I was arranging books." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He knows about Vishnu and me. He made comments about my 'special attention' to students."

Saradha's eyebrows rose slightly.

Devika: "And Pathan... he trapped me in the lab. We were locked in together, and he—he kissed me. I should have fought harder, should have pushed him away immediately, but I... I didn't."

Her hands twisted in her lap, knuckles white with tension.

Devika: "Vishnu was worse. He blackmailed me into meeting him in the boys' toilet. He made me show him... made me let him touch..." She couldn't finish, shame coloring her cheeks. "What kind of teacher does these things? What's happening to me?"

Saradha remained silent, her expression unreadable as Devika's confession unfolded. When Devika finally fell quiet, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Saradha leaned forward.

Saradha: "I never imagined things had gone this far. The boys' toilet? Devika..."

The disappointment in Saradha's voice made Devika flinch. But instead of the condemnation she expected, Saradha's expression shifted to something more calculating.

Saradha: "You know, Seenu isn't the monster you think he is. His wife left him years ago—a terrible fight that broke him. He's been alone ever since, no woman to share his life with."

Devika looked up, confusion replacing shame.

Devika: "That doesn't give him the right to—he's old enough to be my father!"

Saradha laughed, a short, knowing sound that made Devika uncomfortable.

Saradha: "Age doesn't matter when it comes to desire, Devika. Men at his age get especially aroused seeing a beautiful woman like you. Your Kerala complexion, your figure in those fitted blouses—did you really think they wouldn't notice?"

Devika stared at her, incredulous.

Devika: "Are you suggesting I should... sleep with him? Is that what you're saying?"

Saradha: "No, no. That would be senseless. Then you'd get emotionally entangled, and they'd lose interest once they've had what they wanted."

Devika's head spun, trying to follow Saradha's logic.

Saradha: "Keep them engaged, but set limits. Take control instead of letting them control you. Tease them, but don't give everything."

Devika: "What exactly are you suggesting I do?"

Saradha hesitated, tapping her fingers on the desk.

Saradha: "I shouldn't be too direct..."

Devika: "Please, I need guidance. I'm drowning here."

Saradha's eyes gleamed with something Devika couldn't identify—satisfaction, perhaps, or calculation.

Saradha: "With Seenu, share in his loneliness. Tell him about your troubles with Rajeevan. Console him with hugs, perhaps kisses. Let him play a little, but keep the final boundaries."

Devika's eyes widened.

Saradha: "As for the boys... you've already let Vishnu have his way in the toilet. It's too late to stop now—they'll only become more aggressive if you try to pull back."

Devika's stomach turned to ice.

Saradha: "Play along, but use it to your advantage. Make them study. Don't agree immediately next time—make Vishnu beg. Tell him you'll only meet him if his grades improve."

Devika: "This is insane. You can't seriously be suggesting—"

Saradha: "Tell him if he studies well, next time you'll remove your saree completely. Seduce him slowly. Let him remove his shirt, feel your body against his. Let him explore your navel if that's what he wants."

Devika's mouth fell open in shock.

Devika: "You want me to remove my saree completely? In the college toilet?"

Saradha: "Yes. And tell him if his marks improve further, you might even take his... you know... in your mouth."

The crude suggestion hung in the air between them. Devika couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Devika: "What did you just say?"

Saradha: "It would satisfy him completely. Men love that."

Devika's heart hammered against her ribs, her breathing shallow and quick.

Saradha: "With Pathan, it's the same. You've already let him taste your lips. Take control of the situation. When he tries to take advantage, resist a little, then tell him you'll allow it only if he studies. Let him kiss you in empty corridors, abandoned classrooms. If he shows you romantic movies, watch them—even porn if he suggests it."

Devika: "Watch porn? With my student?"

Saradha: "Tell him you'll fulfill the fantasies you see there if his grades improve. Oral pleasures are something you can give without full commitment. These boys are fond of women, especially exotic Kerala girls like you. They'll do anything for that privilege."

Devika sat frozen, unable to comprehend how her trusted senior had transformed into this person suggesting such outrageous acts. Yet, in her confusion and isolation, a small part of her wondered if Saradha was right. She'd already crossed so many lines—was there really any going back?

Her marriage was hollow, her professional boundaries already compromised. Maybe using these men's desires to make them study was the only power she had left.

Saradha: "Keep me informed about your... activities with them. I can give you more ideas, help you navigate this situation."

Devika nodded numbly, rising from her chair like a sleepwalker. As she turned to leave, Saradha called after her.

Saradha: "Remember, Devika—you're in control now. Make them work for every touch, every glimpse. That's your power."

Devika walked out, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The sensible part of her recoiled at Saradha's suggestions, recognizing them as fundamentally wrong and dangerous. But another part—the part starved for connection, for desire, for power in a life where she felt increasingly powerless—considered the path being offered.

As she moved through the corridor toward her next class, Devika caught sight of Vishnu watching her from the stairwell, his eyes tracking her movements with hungry intent. Instead of avoiding his gaze, she held it for a moment longer than necessary, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

Perhaps Saradha was right. Perhaps this was the only way forward now.

[prady12191]

That night, Devika paced her apartment, Saradha's advice echoing in her mind. The power dynamics, the manipulation—it simultaneously repulsed and intrigued her. Could she truly regain control this way? Her thoughts spiraled as she tried to rationalize what had become of her life in Pune.

Her phone rang, displaying an unfamiliar number. She hesitated before answering.

Devika: "Hello? Who is this?"

Vishnu: "Madam, it's me. Vishnu."

Her pulse quickened. How had he gotten her number?

Devika: "Why are you calling at this hour? This is highly inappropriate."

Vishnu: "I can't help it, madam. I can't... I can't stop thinking about you."

His voice carried a tremor of genuine desperation that caught Devika off guard.

Vishnu: "I tried studying for tomorrow's test, but I can't focus. Every time I open my books, all I see is... is you in the toilet. The way your skin felt when I... when I touched your navel."

Devika closed her eyes, Saradha's words crystallizing in her mind: These boys are fond of women, especially exotic Kerala girls like you. They'll do anything for that privilege.

Devika: "Vishnu, you need to forget what happened and concentrate on your studies. That incident shouldn't have occurred."

Vishnu: "How can I forget? Your figure, madam... when I saw you in the toilet... I've never seen anything so beautiful. Your curves, your skin—"

Devika: "That's enough, Vishnu."

She kept her tone stern, remembering Saradha's advice: Don't agree immediately next time—make Vishnu beg.

Vishnu: "Please, madam. I need to see you again. Just once more."

Devika: "And what about your education? Your future?"

Vishnu: "I'll study hard afterward, I promise. But right now, I can't even read a single page without thinking of you."

Devika sat on the edge of her bed, a strange calm settling over her. These men needed her. They couldn't function without her. Perhaps Saradha was right—this was power, in its own twisted way.

Vishnu: "Please, madam. Just one more time in the boys' toilet. I'm begging you."

Devika let the silence stretch, making him wait as Saradha had suggested.

Devika: "It's too risky, Vishnu."

Vishnu: "No one will know. Please, madam, please. I can't focus otherwise."

She sighed dramatically.

Devika: "If it's truly affecting your studies this much... I suppose I could consider it. But only if you promise to study properly afterward."

Vishnu: "Yes! Yes, I promise. Thank you, madam."

Now Devika felt the strange power Saradha had described—the intoxicating feeling of having someone completely at her mercy.

Devika: "But this time will be different, Vishnu."

Vishnu: "Different? How?"

Devika: "Last time was just my pallu, wasn't it? This time..."

She paused, hardly believing the words forming on her lips.

Devika: "This time, if you truly want to feel me, you can remove my entire saree."

The sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line told her she'd stunned him.

Vishnu: "Madam... are you serious?"

Devika: "But only if you study well. You must score above eighty in tomorrow's test. Otherwise, this offer expires."

Vishnu: "I will, madam. I'll study all night!"

Devika: "And one more thing. Tomorrow, you may hug me if you wish."

Vishnu: "Hug you?"

Devika: "Yes. And to feel me better, you can remove your shirt while hugging me. Skin against skin feels... different."

There was silence, then a strangled sound.

Vishnu: "Madam, I... I can't believe this."

Devika: "And I'll wear a sleeveless blouse tomorrow. So you'll feel more of my skin against yours when we embrace."

She heard his uneven breathing, picturing his face contorted with desire and disbelief.

Devika: "But remember our agreement. After tomorrow, you focus entirely on your studies. And if your grades improve consistently, there might be... other rewards."

Vishnu: "What kind of rewards?"

Devika: "Things you've only imagined. But that depends entirely on your academic performance. Do we have an understanding?"

Vishnu: "Yes, madam. Absolutely."

Devika: "Good night, then."

She ended the call, staring at her phone. What had she just done? The words had flowed from her mouth like they belonged to someone else—someone calculating, seductive, powerful. Not the Devika who had arrived in Pune months ago.

Yet something about this new persona felt oddly liberating. For years she'd been the good wife, the dedicated teacher, the proper woman. Now she was becoming something else—something dangerous and unpredictable, even to herself.

As she prepared for bed, Devika wondered if she was reclaiming control or spiraling further into chaos. Tomorrow would bring her answer, as she stepped deeper into this dark game of desire and manipulation.

[prady12191]

The next morning, Devika stood before her wardrobe with uncharacteristic deliberation. Her fingers traced the edge of a deep maroon silk saree with gold border—one she'd never dared wear to college. She paired it with a sleeveless blouse that revealed her smooth shoulders and arms. The mirror reflected a woman she barely recognized: confident, alluring, powerful.

Students' conversations died mid-sentence as she glided through the corridor. Male professors froze, coffee cups suspended halfway to their lips. Even Saradha's eyebrows rose slightly at the transformation. The sleeveless blouse revealed more than just skin—it displayed a newfound boldness that electrified the air around her.

During the examination, Devika paced between the rows, aware of every gaze following her movements. Vishnu hunched over his paper, writing furiously. His determination was palpable—a stark contrast to Pathan, who struggled through questions with growing frustration. The power dynamic had shifted visibly. One student driven by promise, the other floundering without similar motivation.

When Devika collected the papers later that day, she wasn't surprised by the results. Vishnu had scored 92 percent—a shocking improvement that left other professors murmuring in disbelief. Pathan had barely managed to pass.

"I don't understand," Seenu muttered, examining Vishnu's paper. "This boy was failing just last month."

Devika offered a professional smile. "Some students simply need the right... inspiration."

When she handed back the papers, Vishnu approached her desk last. His classmates had already filed out, leaving them in momentary privacy.

"I proved myself, madam," he whispered, fingers brushing against hers as he accepted his exam. "Ninety-two percent."

Devika nodded, her smile measured but unmistakable. "You did well."

"Now it's your turn to prove yourself." His eyes traveled from her face to her bare shoulders, lingering on the curve where her blouse met skin.

"I keep my promises," she replied softly, the words barely audible.

As evening approached, the classrooms emptied. Students streamed toward the gates, eager to celebrate the end of exams. Devika remained behind, organizing papers with deliberate slowness. Pathan stalked out, kicking a trash can in frustration, while Vishnu hovered near the door, waiting.

Across the campus, Devika felt a strange pity for Pathan and his failure. Yet a more powerful feeling overshadowed it—validation of Saradha's theory. These boys would indeed do anything for her attention. She had become the puppet master, not the puppet.

As the last footsteps faded from the corridor, Devika locked her desk drawer and stood. The evening stretched before her, dark with possibility.

The evening shadows stretched across the empty campus as Vishnu lingered in the corridor. He watched with calculated patience as Pathan finally stormed out, kicking a trash can in frustration over his poor exam performance. Vishnu remained hidden, waiting until the last faculty member locked their office and headed home.

The building fell into silence. Only the occasional distant sound of a janitor's mop bucket broke the stillness. Through the window, Vishnu spotted Devika still in her classroom, methodically organizing papers on her desk. He knew she was waiting too.

Devika sensed his presence before she saw him. A prickling awareness crawled across her skin as she looked up to find Vishnu standing in the doorway, his eyes dark with anticipation. No words passed between them. The agreement hung in the air, unspoken but binding.

She gathered her belongings and walked past him into the corridor. Without looking back, she made her way toward the boys' toilet at the far end of the building. The sound of Vishnu's footsteps followed at a careful distance.

The harsh fluorescent light of the toilet flickered as Devika pushed open the door. Her eyes immediately found the crude graffiti that bore her name, now joined by even more vulgar suggestions. Last time, the sight had horrified her. Today, she regarded it with strange detachment.

The small space felt even more confined than she remembered. The sink dripped slowly, marking time in the silence. She didn't turn when she heard the door open behind her.

Vishnu entered, his face flushed with excitement. He locked the door, the click echoing in the tiled room. They stood facing each other in the cramped space, the reality of what they were about to do hanging heavy between them.

Without warning, Vishnu stepped forward and pulled Devika into an embrace. Her body tensed at the sudden contact, her breasts crushed against his chest. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her sleeveless blouse.

"You're so hot in this blouse, madam," he whispered against her ear, his voice hoarse. "I couldn't focus in class all day."

Devika leaned back slightly, maintaining their embrace but creating enough space to see his face. "You did well on your exam, Vishnu. Ninety-two percent."

"I did it only for you." His fingers traced the bare skin of her arms. "I'm ready to do anything for this chance."

"You proved yourself as a good student," Devika said, surprised by the steadiness in her voice despite the hammering of her heart.

Vishnu's hands tightened on her waist. "Now it's time for you to prove yourself as a good teacher." He stepped back and gestured at her saree. "Remove it. Like you promised."

"Don't rush," Devika cautioned, placing a hand on his chest. "We have time." She let her fingers trail down to the buttons of his shirt. "You've only scored good marks, not earned everything yet. First, you get this favor."

Vishnu stood perfectly still as Devika's trembling fingers worked the buttons of his shirt. She couldn't believe what she was doing—undressing her student in the college toilet. With each button that came undone, she felt another piece of her old self falling away.

She slid the shirt from his shoulders, letting it drop to the dirty floor. Vishnu stood before her in his undershirt, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. He clearly expected her to stop there, but Devika surprised them both by grasping the hem of his vest and pulling it up over his head.

The scent of him hit her—young, male, slightly musky. Devika inhaled deeply, allowing herself to experience the forbidden sensation. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his bare torso, pressing her lips against his neck.

"Vishnu," she murmured against his skin, "you love your teacher, don't you? You scored well for me."

He responded by tightening his embrace, rubbing his face against her neck. His hands explored the exposed skin of her shoulders, fingers tracing the edges of her sleeveless blouse. The sensation sent shivers down Devika's spine.

She pulled away, meeting his gaze. "Now it's time for my student to take his teacher's saree."

Vishnu's eyes widened. He had assumed she would remove it herself. The realization that Devika wanted him to undress her left him momentarily speechless.

With trembling fingers, Vishnu reached for the pin securing her pallu at her shoulder. He carefully removed it, letting the fabric fall. Slowly, he began unwrapping the saree, circling Devika as the layers of silk came undone. She turned with his movements, feeling the cool air against her skin as more of her body was revealed.

The maroon silk pooled at their feet, settling over his discarded shirt. Devika stood before him in her sleeveless blouse and petticoat, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. A flush of embarrassment washed over her, and she stepped forward to bury her face against his bare chest.

Vishnu pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her exposed waist. The direct contact of his skin against hers sent a jolt through Devika's body. They moved against each other, faces pressed into necks, lips grazing skin. Devika felt his hardness pressing against her thigh, insistent and unmistakable.

Saradha's words echoed in her mind: If he scores exceptionally well, there could be extra credit. Devika's hand traveled downward, coming to rest on Vishnu's thigh. She hesitated only briefly before moving her palm to cup his erection through his pants.

Vishnu gasped, his body going rigid with shock. Devika looked up into his eyes, seeing the disbelief there.

"You need more than a hug for your score," she whispered, and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was hungry and deep. Devika massaged him through the fabric of his pants, feeling him grow harder under her touch. Without breaking the kiss, she reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle. When she struggled with the buttons of his pants, Vishnu helped her, his hands shaking with eagerness.

His pants fell to his ankles, leaving him in his briefs. Devika continued to stroke him through the thin cotton, feeling the damp spot where his excitement had leaked through. Her tongue explored his mouth as her hand worked its magic, driving him to the edge of control.

"I was only expecting eighty percent," she murmured against his lips, "but you scored ninety-two. You deserve your Kerala teacher's hands on you."

With that, Devika slipped her hand inside his briefs and wrapped her fingers around him. The heat of him surprised her—so hot and alive against her palm. She could feel the veins pulsing beneath her fingers as she began to stroke.

She tugged at his briefs, and Vishnu eagerly helped her pull them down. Now he stood before her, completely naked from the waist down. Devika felt a moment of shyness and pressed her lips against his again, continuing to work her hand up and down his length. She could feel the wetness at his tip, evidence of his arousal.

Breaking the kiss, she looked down between them. She ran her thumb over the sensitive head, spreading the slick moisture. "I want your lips on my navel," she said breathlessly, "but not your mouth."

Before Vishnu could process her meaning, Devika guided the tip of his erection to her navel, pressing it against the soft depression. The contact made him gasp. More fluid leaked from him, creating a slippery sensation against her skin.

Vishnu moaned, his head falling back as his eyes closed in ecstasy. Devika watched his face as she rubbed him against her navel, fascinated by the power she held over him in this moment.

"It's time for your real credits from your sexy teacher," she whispered. Slowly, deliberately, she sank to her knees before him, still holding him in her hand.

The strong, musky scent of his arousal filled her senses. She looked up at him, seeing the anticipation and disbelief in his eyes. Holding his gaze, Devika leaned forward and pressed her lips against the tip of him, tasting the saltiness of his excitement.

The contact sent a violent shudder through Vishnu's body. His hands gripped the sink behind him for support as his knees threatened to buckle.

Devika paused, studying the unfamiliar weight in her hand. Despite years of marriage, she had never done this—not even with Rajeevan. The realization sent a thrill through her body. This was entirely new territory, a line she never thought she'd cross.

She examined him curiously, running her fingers along the smooth skin. The stark contrast between his hardness and softness fascinated her. When her thumb grazed over the slit at the tip, Vishnu shuddered violently.

"Please, madam," he gasped, his voice barely audible.

Devika leaned forward, pressing her lips firmly against the head of his erection. The contact made Vishnu moan loudly, his fingers tightening their grip on the sink. The sound of his pleasure emboldened her. She had never witnessed such raw, unfiltered desire directed at her—certainly not from Rajeevan, whose passion had long since cooled to routine.

Her tongue darted out experimentally, tracing the small opening at the tip. The taste was unfamiliar—salty and slightly bitter. Vishnu's legs trembled as she explored him, her tongue circling the sensitive ridge beneath the head.

"Madam... oh god..." he groaned, looking down at her with wide eyes.

Following his gaze, Devika realized her position had caused her blouse to gape open, revealing the deep valley between her breasts. Rather than adjusting herself, she allowed him this view as she wrapped her fingers more firmly around his shaft.

She kissed the tip again, this time lingering longer, feeling the smoothness against her lips. More fluid seeped from him, and Devika found herself licking it away, savoring the intimate taste of his arousal. Each time she cleaned him, more appeared, as though his body was offering an endless supply for her discovery.

The power she felt was intoxicating. Vishnu—who had once made her feel so vulnerable and exposed—now stood helpless before her, completely at her mercy. His moans filled the small space as she wrapped her lips around the head and sucked gently, drawing out more of his essence.

"Look at me," she commanded softly, releasing him momentarily.

When their eyes met, she slowly took him between her lips again, watching his expression contort with pleasure. In this moment, she wasn't Professor Devika—she was a woman exploring the edges of her own desires, finding herself through the surrender of another.

Devika pulled back slightly, noticing how his arousal had already made him slick. But she wanted more—wanted to feel him slide more easily between her lips. She recalled scenes from films she'd accidentally discovered late at night while Rajeevan slept, remembering how women created more wetness.

She looked up at Vishnu, maintaining eye contact as she deliberately gathered saliva in her mouth. His eyes widened in recognition as she parted her lips and let a thin stream of moisture fall onto his length. The intimate act of spitting on him felt scandalously crude yet powerfully arousing.

"Ohhhh," Vishnu moaned, his chest heaving as he watched his professor perform this lewd act. "Madam, I can't believe..."

Devika spread the wetness with her hand, coating him thoroughly before returning her lips to the task. This time, she opened wider, determined to take more of him. She wrapped her lips around the head and pushed forward, feeling the unfamiliar stretch as she accommodated his girth.

To her surprise, she could only manage to take half his length before feeling resistance. She pulled back slightly, adjusting her position before trying again. Her long hair fell forward, partially obscuring her face as she began a rhythm, moving her head back and forth.

Vishnu watched, transfixed by the sight of his Kerala teacher on her knees, her head bobbing as she pleasured him. Each time she moved forward, her hair would cascade around her face, and she would pause momentarily to tuck the strands behind her ear before continuing her ministrations.

The small, practical gesture—so ordinary yet performed during such an extraordinary act—sent a jolt of pleasure through him. This wasn't some fantasy or porn actress; this was his professor, learning to please him in real time.

Devika established a steady rhythm, her inexperience evident but her enthusiasm making up for any lack of technique. When her jaw began to ache from the unfamiliar position, she released him from her mouth but kept stroking with her hand. She shifted her attention, lowering her head to run her tongue along the base of his shaft while looking up at him through her lashes.

"Is this what you dreamed about when you studied for your exam?" she asked, her voice husky with a confidence she'd never known before. "Is this why you scored ninety-two percent?"

"Yes," Vishnu gasped, his voice cracking with desire. "Yes, madam. Every page I studied, I thought about you. Every answer I wrote was for this moment."

His confession sent a thrill through Devika. She resumed her efforts with renewed purpose, taking him between her lips again. Finding herself still limited by her inexperience, she gathered more saliva and let it drip deliberately onto his length, creating the wetness she needed.

"I can't take all of you," she admitted softly, a note of apology in her voice.

Instead, she adjusted her approach, turning her head to run her lips along the side of his shaft. The change in angle allowed her to trace the entire length with her mouth, ensuring every inch felt the soft press of her lips. Vishnu's fingers threaded through her hair as she worked, his breathing growing increasingly ragged.

Devika's explorations grew bolder. She moved lower, taking one of his testicles into her mouth with careful gentleness. The weight of it on her tongue was strange but not unpleasant. She sucked softly, feeling him twitch and hearing his breath catch.

"Oh god, madam," he moaned, his legs trembling.

Something primitive awakened in Devika, urging her toward even greater intimacy. She raised his erection with one hand, exposing the sensitive skin beneath. In a move that surprised even herself, she extended her tongue and licked the tender area under his balls, venturing toward territory she'd never considered before.

Vishnu's reaction was immediate and violent. His body jerked as her tongue probed the sensitive skin, venturing dangerously close to his most private area. A guttural groan escaped him, his fingers tightening almost painfully in her hair.

Taking him in both hands, Devika began to stroke him firmly while looking up.

"You made your teacher proud by scoring so well," she whispered, her voice taking on a husky quality she barely recognized. "You did exactly what I asked of you."

She quickened her pace, watching his face contort with pleasure.

"It's my duty as your teacher to make you happy," she continued, closing her eyes and guiding his hardness to her face.

She gently slapped his erection against her cheeks, her forehead, her chin—feeling the wet combination of his excitement and her saliva splashing with each contact. Vishnu watched in awe as his professor allowed his most intimate part to mark her beautiful face.

The sensation of his hardness against her soft skin—the contrast between his rigid heat and her delicate features—intensified his pleasure. Devika puckered her lips, deliberately slapping his tip against her mouth before rubbing it slowly across her lips, marking them with his essence.

Devika felt a reckless desire coursing through her veins. Without stopping her ministrations, she reached up with trembling fingers to her blouse strap. Vishnu's eyes widened as she deliberately slid the thin fabric down her shoulder while continuing to pleasure him with her mouth.

"Madam... what are you doing?" His voice was barely audible, strained with disbelief.

She didn't answer immediately, her mouth otherwise occupied. With practiced movements, she slipped her other strap down, allowing her blouse to fall further, revealing the upper swells of her breasts and deep cleavage. Her bra straps followed, sliding down her arms while she maintained her rhythm.

When she finally released him from her mouth, her breathing was heavy, eyes dark with desire. "You're my student who made me proud," she whispered, her voice husky and unfamiliar even to herself. "I can do anything for a student who excels."

Vishnu stood frozen, his hands gripping the sink edge so tightly his knuckles whitened. The transformation of his proper Kerala professor into this wanton woman before him exceeded his wildest fantasies.

"I'm going to make my student's dick happy," Devika murmured, the crude word sounding foreign on her tongue. With deliberate slowness, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. The garment fell forward, revealing her breasts completely.

Vishnu's breath caught in his throat. "They're... they're so sexy," he stammered. "Even more beautiful than I imagined."

Her breasts were indeed perfectly shaped—full and firm, with dark nipples hardened to tight points. The contrast of her naked chest against her professional demeanor—her glasses still perched on her nose, her expression one of scholarly concentration—created an erotic dissonance that made his arousal throb painfully.

Devika shifted position, rising slightly on her knees until her breasts were level with his erection. She looked up at him through her lashes, maintaining eye contact as she took her breasts in her hands, lifting and squeezing them together to create a warm channel.

"This is what a ninety-two percent deserves," she whispered, guiding him between her breasts.

The sensation of his hardness sliding against her soft skin sent a visible shudder through Vishnu's body. He jerked forward involuntarily, his hips moving of their own accord as he felt the incredible warmth enveloping him.

"Ohhh," he groaned, his head falling back as Devika squeezed her breasts more tightly around him, creating delicious pressure. The incredible reality of his stern professor presenting her naked breasts for his pleasure overwhelmed his senses completely.

Devika leaned back slightly, gathering saliva in her mouth before letting it drip between her breasts. The warm liquid pooled in the valley of her chest, creating a slick channel for Vishnu's hardness. She pressed her breasts together more firmly, creating tighter pressure around him as she began to move rhythmically.

Vishnu's erection slid smoothly between her breasts, disappearing halfway into the warm crevice she'd created. With each upward movement, only the purplish head emerged, glistening with the mixture of her saliva and his excitement. Devika lowered her face, extending her tongue to flick against the sensitive tip each time it appeared, drawing a sharp gasp from Vishnu with every contact.

The combination of wetness—sweat, saliva, and his pre-release—created a sheen that made both his shaft and her breasts glisten under the harsh fluorescent light. She controlled the pace deliberately, sliding slowly and maintaining eye contact with an intensity that made him tremble. The sophisticated Kerala professor had transformed into something else entirely—a woman exploring the full extent of her sexual power.

After several minutes of this exquisite torture, Devika released her breasts and took his hardness in her hand. With deliberate movements, she began slapping it gently against each breast, creating soft wet sounds that echoed in the tiled space. Vishnu watched, mesmerized, as his erection bounced against her soft flesh, leaving glistening trails across her skin.

With scientific curiosity, she pointed the head directly at her nipples, rubbing the mixture of saliva and his fluid against the hardened peaks. The intimate contact made her inhale sharply, her own arousal building unexpectedly from this lewd act.

"Madam..." Vishnu gasped, barely able to form words. His legs trembled with the effort of remaining upright, his knuckles white from gripping the sink edge.

Devika studied his expression, a newfound curiosity overtaking her. How much pleasure could her student withstand? How far could she push his limits? The power she felt was intoxicating, nothing like she'd ever experienced before.

"Turn around," she commanded softly, her voice carrying a surprising authority despite her compromised position.

"What?" Vishnu blinked, confusion momentarily overriding his arousal.

"I want to see how much my student can handle," she explained, her tone reminiscent of her classroom lectures. "Turn around. Face the wall."

Though bewildered, Vishnu obeyed, turning his back to her. Devika found herself facing his bare buttocks, the unexpected vulnerability of this position sending a strange thrill through her. Without allowing herself to think too deeply about her actions, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on one rounded cheek.

Vishnu moaned, his body jerking at the unexpected contact. The sound encouraged her, and she extended her tongue, tracing a wet path across his skin. She explored the contours of his buttocks with her mouth, alternating between gentle kisses and bolder licks that left him shuddering.

"Madam, what are you doing?" he gasped, half-turning to look over his shoulder.

"Teaching you a new lesson," she replied, her voice thick with desire. "Showing you what happens when you excel in my class."

Her hands gripped his hips firmly as she continued her intimate exploration, her tongue gliding across the smooth skin of his cheeks. Each swipe of her tongue drew increasingly desperate sounds from Vishnu, his body tensing and relaxing in waves of pleasure he'd never anticipated.

Emboldened by Vishnu's trembling response, Devika gently parted his buttocks with her hands. The intimate exposure made him tense, but she soothed him with soft kisses along the curve where thigh met cheek. Her heart raced as she ventured into territory completely foreign to her, driven by a primal curiosity and newfound confidence.

"Relax," she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.

With delicate precision, she traced her tongue along the shallow valley between his cheeks, keeping to the outer edges of the sensitive area. She explored carefully, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling him quiver beneath her touch. The forbidden nature of this act—this complete surrender of her former propriety—sent waves of unexpected pleasure through her own body.

Vishnu's moans echoed against the bathroom tiles as she continued her gentle exploration, her tongue gliding over the sensitive skin without venturing deeper. The intimacy of this act—more than anything they'd done before—marked a complete transformation in their relationship. No longer merely teacher and student, they had crossed into something primal and uncharted.

"I can't... I can't take much more," Vishnu gasped, his voice breaking with strain.

Devika withdrew, turning him around to face her again. His erection stood rigidly before her, darker and more swollen than before, visibly throbbing with his heartbeat. The sight stirred something possessive within her—she had brought him to this state, had shown him pleasures he'd never imagined possible from his stern Kerala professor.

"Come here," she commanded softly, taking him in her hand again.

She guided him back to her mouth, her lips parting to welcome him. This time, she took him deeper, relaxing her throat as much as possible. Her inexperience still limited her, but her enthusiasm compensated as she established a steady rhythm, her head bobbing as she worked him with increasing confidence.

Vishnu's breathing grew ragged, his moans more desperate. His fingers tangled in her hair, not guiding but simply holding on as if to anchor himself against the overwhelming sensations. Devika felt him swell further against her tongue, the pulse of his arousal quickening noticeably.

"Madam, I'm going to..." he warned, his voice tight with restraint.

Devika didn't withdraw. Instead, she increased her pace, her hand working in tandem with her mouth. She looked up, maintaining eye contact as she continued pleasuring him, silently communicating her permission.

The sight of his proper, sophisticated professor—half-naked with her lips wrapped around him, looking up with dark, eager eyes—proved too much for Vishnu. With a strangled cry, his body tensed completely. Devika felt the first pulse against her tongue, followed by a rush of warmth that flooded her mouth.

The unfamiliar taste surprised her, but she continued her movements, determined to experience this completely. Each pulse brought another wave, filling her mouth until she could contain no more. Some escaped, trailing down her chin as she struggled to swallow the unfamiliar fluid.

When the last tremor subsided, Vishnu slumped against the sink, his legs barely supporting him. Devika released him gently, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The taste lingered on her tongue—salty, slightly bitter, yet not unpleasant. She had never imagined herself doing something so intimate, yet here she was, savoring the evidence of her student's pleasure.

They remained still for several moments, the only sound their heavy breathing echoing in the small space. The reality of what they'd just done began to settle over them, neither quite able to process the transformation that had occurred.

Slowly, Devika rose to her feet, suddenly aware of her exposed breasts. She reached for her bra, slipping it back on with trembling fingers. Vishnu watched her, his expression a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Madam, that was..." he began, but words failed him.

"The reward for your academic excellence," she finished for him, her voice surprisingly steady despite the turmoil inside her. "Remember our agreement. You focus on your studies now."

Vishnu nodded, still dazed as he pulled up his underwear and pants. Devika gathered her saree from the floor, wrapping it around herself with practiced movements that belied the extraordinary circumstances.

When they were both dressed, an awkward silence fell between them. The dynamic had irreversibly shifted—teacher and student no longer adequately described what they were to each other.

Vishnu stepped forward hesitantly, his eyes questioning. Devika understood what he wanted. She leaned in, allowing him to press his lips against hers one final time. The kiss was gentle, almost reverent—nothing like the heated exchange they'd shared earlier.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips before pulling away.

"Keep studying," she replied softly. "There's still more to learn."

They left the bathroom separately, Devika going first after checking the corridor was empty. As she walked back to her classroom to collect her belongings, her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Pride in her newfound power mingled with shame at her actions, excitement clashed with uncertainty about what she was becoming.

Yet beneath it all ran a current of undeniable truth—she had never felt more alive, more herself, than in that tiled bathroom with her student. The proper Kerala woman who had arrived in Pune months ago was transforming into someone else entirely, someone who recognized her own desires and wasn't afraid to claim them.

[prady12191]

Vishnu stared at the ceiling of his hostel room, a broad smile playing on his lips. Every detail of the afternoon with Devika remained vivid in his mind—her soft mouth enveloping him, her delicate fingers stroking him, the taste of her skin against his tongue. The memory of her breasts pressed against his hardness made him shiver with renewed desire. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his stern professor would transform so completely, taking him into her mouth with such enthusiasm.

"Ninety-two percent was worth every hour of studying," he whispered to himself, running his hands over his face. He could still smell her on his skin, a faint trace of jasmine mixed with the earthy scent of their shared pleasure.

Vishnu considered telling Pathan about what had happened but quickly dismissed the idea. This was his secret to keep—his special connection with Devika. Sharing it would diminish what they'd shared. Besides, the thought of keeping Pathan in the dark while he enjoyed their professor's intimate attention gave him a sense of superiority that was too delicious to surrender.

"Let him wonder why I'm studying so hard," Vishnu chuckled, imagining Pathan's frustration at failing the test while he excelled. The memory of Pathan kicking the trash can made his smile widen.

Across town in her apartment, Devika stood under the shower, letting hot water cascade over her body. She closed her eyes as steam filled the bathroom, but couldn't escape the images replaying in her mind. Her hands trembled slightly as she touched her lips, remembering how they had stretched around Vishnu, how his hardness had felt against her tongue.

"What have I become?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the running water.

She had crossed a boundary she never imagined possible—not just allowing her student to see her partially undressed, but taking him into her mouth, tasting his most intimate essence. The proper Kerala wife had performed acts she'd never even considered with her own husband.

Devika's thoughts drifted to her transformation in the boys' toilet. She had removed her saree completely, standing before Vishnu in just her blouse and petticoat. She had pressed his bare chest against her, feeling the warmth of his skin through her sleeveless blouse. She had taken him in her hand, learning the feel of him, the weight of him. And finally, she had knelt before him, her lips parting to take him inside.

The water ran cold, but Devika barely noticed, lost in the memory of Vishnu's moans echoing off the tiled walls. Despite her confusion and shame, she couldn't deny the power she had felt. For once, she hadn't been the proper wife waiting for calls from Dubai, the reserved professor maintaining professional boundaries. She had been a woman embracing her desires, claiming what she wanted.

As she dressed in her nightgown, Devika's thoughts shifted to Pathan. His dejected expression as he failed the exam had stirred something unexpected within her—pity, but also responsibility. If Vishnu could improve so dramatically with the right motivation, perhaps Pathan could too.

Saradha's words echoed in her mind: "Keep them engaged, but set limits. Take control instead of letting them control you."

Devika picked up her phone, scrolling through the contacts until she found Pathan's number. Her finger hovered over it hesitantly. The rational part of her brain screamed warnings, reminding her of professional ethics, of dignity, of all she stood to lose. But another part—the part that had tasted freedom in that dirty bathroom—urged her forward.

"It's just to help him study," she whispered to herself, pressing the call button before she could change her mind.

The phone felt heavy in Devika's hand as she listened to the ringing. Her heart fluttered with apprehension, questioning her decision with every second. Finally, the call connected.

Pathan: "Hello?" His voice carried a hint of surprise mixed with sleepiness.

Devika: "Pathan, this is Professor Devika."

A long pause followed, filled with static and tension.

Pathan: "Madam? Why you calling me this time?" His tone shifted to deliberate indifference.

Devika: "I noticed your marks in the last test. Forty-two percent is very poor performance, especially compared to Vishnu's score."

Pathan scoffed, the sound harsh through the phone.

Pathan: "So what? Not everyone interested in studying biology, madam."

Devika: "But without passing marks, you won't complete your degree. Is that what you want?"

Pathan: "Maybe. Maybe not." His voice hardened with affected carelessness. "Why suddenly caring about my marks? Never bothered before."

Devika took a deep breath, Saradha's advice echoing in her mind. Take control, use their desires against them.

Devika: "As your professor, I care about all my students' progress. You have potential, Pathan. You're wasting it."

Pathan: "No use talking about study now, madam. Can't concentrate anyway."

Devika: "Why not? What's distracting you?"

A low chuckle vibrated through the line, making Devika's skin prickle.

Pathan: "You really want to know? I keep thinking about that day in lab. When we were locked together. How your lips felt against mine."

Devika's cheeks burned. "That was inappropriate. You need to forget that incident."

Pathan: "How to forget, madam? I tried. But then I watch videos on phone at night, and I imagine it's you instead of those actresses."

Devika: "Videos? What videos?"

Pathan: "You know... adult films. Started watching after seeing you in college. Now can't stop. Addicted, I think." His voice dropped lower. "When I watch, I remember how you tasted that day."

Devika closed her eyes, mortification washing over her. Yet Saradha's words whispered in her mind again: Use it to your advantage. Make them study.

Devika: "Listen to me carefully, Pathan. If you want to forget that incident, you need to replace it with better memories."

Pathan: "What you mean, madam?"

Devika: "If you score well in the next test—above eighty percent—perhaps we could find ourselves in a similar situation again."

The line went silent. Devika could almost feel Pathan's confusion through the phone.

Pathan: "You saying... we could be alone again? Like before?"

Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

Devika: "Yes. If you prove yourself through your academic performance. But only then."

Pathan: "What about these videos I watch? They distract me from studies."

Devika swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

Devika: "Perhaps we could address that problem too. If your marks improve significantly, maybe I could help you overcome that... addiction."

Pathan: "How, madam?"

Devika: "We could... watch together. Discuss what's real and what's fantasy. It might help you see these videos more objectively."

The silence that followed felt eternal. Devika pressed her free hand against her forehead, scarcely believing her own words.

Pathan: "Madam, you serious? You would watch those films with me?"

Devika: "Only if your marks improve dramatically. And only as an educational exercise."

A sharp intake of breath came through the phone.

Pathan: "I'll study, madam. I'll get highest marks in class. Better than Vishnu even."

Devika's shoulders relaxed slightly, though the weight of what she'd promised remained.

Devika: "Good. I'll expect to see improvement immediately. Starting with tomorrow's class."

Pathan: "Yes, madam. Definitely. I'll be there early. Front bench."

After ending the call, Devika sat motionless on her bed, phone still clutched in her hand. What had she done? The teacher in her was horrified, yet another part—the part that had felt powerless for so long—hummed with a strange new energy.

Control. For once, she was the one setting terms. The one with power.

She only hoped she wasn't making the greatest mistake of her life.

The harsh ring of Devika's phone cut through the silence of her apartment, pulling her from a restless sleep. The clock on her nightstand showed 11:42 PM. No one called this late for professional reasons.

Vishnu: "Madam, did I wake you?"

His voice sounded different—not the hesitant student she'd known, but someone with newfound confidence. Heat rushed to her face as memories of their encounter in the boys' toilet flooded back.

Devika: "Vishnu? Why are you calling at this hour?"

Vishnu: "I couldn't sleep, madam. Keep thinking about what happened today."

She sat up in bed, pulling the sheet around her though no one could see her. The darkness of her room felt suddenly intimate, as if Vishnu were somehow present in the shadows.

Vishnu: "I need to thank you properly. For removing your saree completely. For kissing me. For... for taking me in your mouth."

Devika's breath caught in her throat. Hearing these acts described so bluntly made them real in a way they hadn't been before. In the toilet, everything had happened in a blur of sensation and impulse. Now, Vishnu's words forced her to acknowledge what she'd done.

"That was inappropriate," she said, her voice lacking conviction. "We shouldn't discuss it."

Vishnu: "But I can't stop thinking about it, madam. How you knelt in front of me. How your lips felt stretched around me. How you swallowed when I finished."

A strange feeling pulsed through Devika—embarrassment mixed with an unexpected thrill at hearing these acts described. In her marriage, sex had always been a silent affair, performed in darkness, never discussed afterward.

"Vishnu, we can't—"

Vishnu: "I've never felt anything like that before. Your mouth was so warm, so wet. The way you looked up at me while you sucked me... I'll never forget it."

His crude directness should have offended her, but instead, Devika felt a shift inside herself. This new Devika—the one who had performed those acts in the toilet—wasn't ashamed. She was powerful.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she heard herself say, her voice dropping to a lower register. "You deserved a reward for your excellent marks."

The line went quiet for a moment, as if Vishnu hadn't expected this response.

Vishnu: "Did you... did you enjoy it too, madam?"

The question hung in the air. Devika considered deflecting, maintaining some semblance of professional distance. But something about the darkness of her room, the late hour, and the intimacy of a phone call freed her from conventional restraints.

"Yes," she admitted, surprising herself with her candor. "I enjoyed having you in my mouth. I liked the way you tasted."

She heard Vishnu's sharp intake of breath.

Vishnu: "Oh god, madam. Hearing you say that... I'm hard again just from your voice."

A month ago, such a statement would have horrified her. Now, it sent a flush of satisfaction through her body.

"Your dick felt good between my lips," she said, testing the crude word on her tongue. It felt strange but liberating to speak so explicitly. "I've never done that before. You were my first."

Vishnu: "Never? Not even with your husband?"

"Never." The admission hung between them. "You were the first man I've ever taken in my mouth."

Vishnu: "Madam, that makes it even more special. I can't believe I was your first."

Devika leaned back against her pillows, a smile playing at her lips. "You seemed to enjoy when I put your dick between my breasts too."

Vishnu: "Your boobs felt amazing around me. So soft and warm. I loved how you spit between them to make it slippery."

His description sent an unexpected shiver through her. Hearing her actions described so vividly made her relive them from his perspective.

"I wish I could have taken more of you," she admitted. "I tried, but you were too big for my inexperienced mouth."

Vishnu: "The way you kept trying to take more of me... it was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. And when you turned me around and... and kissed me there..."

Devika closed her eyes, remembering how she'd explored him with her tongue. "I surprised myself with that. I didn't plan it."

Vishnu: "It felt incredible, madam. I never imagined you would do something so... so intimate."

"Neither did I," she said softly. "Something came over me. I wanted to taste every part of you."

Their breathing synchronized through the phone, both lost in the memory of their encounter.

Vishnu: "When I felt myself between your breasts, I wanted so badly to suck on them. Your nipples looked so perfect. Dark and hard. I didn't get a chance to put them in my mouth."

The image he painted made her body respond, an ache building low in her abdomen. This crude, explicit conversation was affecting her physically in ways she hadn't anticipated.

"Perhaps," she said carefully, "if your next exam scores are even higher..."

Vishnu: "I'll score perfect marks, madam. I promise. I'll study every night thinking about tasting your nipples."

Devika felt her control returning with his eagerness. This was the leverage Saradha had described—the power of desire.

"Good," she said, her voice taking on the crisp authority of the classroom. "Because high achievement deserves proper reward."

Vishnu: "Madam, I'm touching myself right now thinking about you. About your mouth. About your beautiful breasts."

His confession should have shocked her, but instead, it kindled something warm within her. The image of Vishnu alone in his room, pleasure himself to thoughts of her, gave her a heady sense of power.

"Study first," she commanded gently. "Fantasize later. I expect nothing less than ninety-five percent on your next test."

Vishnu: "Yes, madam. Anything for you."

As Devika ended the call, she sat motionless in the darkness. The woman who had arrived in Pune months ago would have been horrified by this conversation. But that woman was fading, replaced by someone who understood the currency of desire and wasn't afraid to spend it.

She lay back down, staring at the ceiling, and wondered who else might respond to similar motivation. Pathan's failing grade flashed in her mind. Perhaps he too needed the right incentive to excel.

With that thought, Devika closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift toward sleep, her dreams filled with the power of transformation—not just of her students, but of herself.

[prady12191]

For the next few days, Devika noticed a remarkable change in Pathan. The student who once slouched at the back of the classroom, eyes wandering everywhere but his textbook, now arrived early with notes prepared. During lectures, his hand shot up with questions that showed genuine engagement with the material. His crude comments and leering glances hadn't disappeared entirely—she still caught him watching the curve of her hip as she wrote on the board—but a newfound focus tempered his usual brashness.

Vishnu, too, maintained his academic momentum. Their competition seemed to fuel both of them, though for different rewards. When Devika called on Pathan to answer a complex question about cellular mitosis, his detailed response drew surprised looks from classmates.

Pathan: "The centrosomes begin to move to opposite sides of the cell nucleus during prophase, madam. By metaphase, they've established the polar regions where chromosomes will eventually segregate."

The pride in his voice was unmistakable. After class, he lingered behind, casually flipping through his notebook.

Pathan: "Did you notice my answer today, madam? I've been studying all night."

Devika couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I noticed. Your improvement is impressive."

Pathan: "So when can we... you know... watch that movie together? Like you promised?"

The smile faded from her lips. "Focus on your exam first. Then we'll discuss rewards."

As she gathered her papers, Devika felt a strange mixture of guilt and satisfaction. Using these boys' desires to motivate their studies was manipulative, yes—but seeing actual academic growth made her wonder if the end might justify her questionable means.

Later that afternoon, Seenu summoned her to his office again. When she arrived, she found him hunched over his desk, picking at a takeout container of biryani.

Seenu: "Ah, Devika. Thank you for coming. Just finishing my lunch."

The rich aroma of spices filled the room, but Seenu seemed to take little pleasure in the food. He pushed it aside with a sigh.

Seenu: "I've been meaning to congratulate you. Vishnu scored remarkably well on his last assessment. Whatever teaching methods you're employing seem quite effective."

His tone carried a weight that made Devika shift uncomfortably. She glanced at the half-eaten meal.

Devika: "Hotel food again, sir? That can't be healthy."

Seenu shrugged, his shoulders sagging slightly. "What choice do I have? My cooking skills extend to boiling water, and barely that."

She remembered what Saradha had mentioned about Seenu's personal life—his wife leaving years ago, the loneliness that had hardened into a bitter shell. Looking at him now, picking at restaurant food in his sterile office, she felt an unexpected pang of sympathy.

Devika: "It must be difficult... eating alone all the time."

Seenu looked up, surprised by the personal turn in conversation. "It's my fate, I suppose. After so many years, you get used to it."

His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and Devika saw something vulnerable flash across his face before he masked it with his usual stern expression.

"Everyone has their burdens," he continued, pushing the food container further away. "Mine is an empty house and hotel food that all tastes the same after a while."

Devika thought of her own apartment, of meals eaten in silence while her husband video-called with excuses from Dubai. She thought of Saradha's advice about taking control of Seenu, about using his loneliness to her advantage. The suggestion had seemed manipulative and cruel, but seeing him now—this aging man with his sad lunch—she felt a genuine connection in their shared solitude.

Without overthinking, she stepped forward and placed her hand over his. "We all need someone to lean on sometimes."

Seenu froze, staring at her hand covering his. Devika herself was surprised by her boldness, but didn't pull away.

Devika: "My husband... he's been unfaithful. Multiple women in Dubai. I pretend not to know, but..."

She trailed off, surprised at how easily this confession tumbled from her lips. Seenu's eyes widened, his hand turning to hold hers.

Seenu: "That fool. How could any man look elsewhere when he has you?"

His thumb stroked the back of her hand, a gesture at once comforting and possessive. The touch sent an unexpected warmth through her.

Devika: "We should both eat better than this. What's the point of living if we're just going through motions, right?"

She moved around his desk and settled on the edge of his chair. "Come on, let's share. Food tastes better when it's not eaten alone."

Seenu: "Share my biryani?"

Devika: "No, let's share my lunch. I made too much this morning."

She opened her tiffin box, revealing neatly packed chapatis, vegetable curry, and rice. The homemade aroma filled the room, making the takeout smell flat in comparison.

Seenu: "That's very kind of you, but—"

Devika: "I insist. Let me at least do this small thing."

She took a piece of chapati, dipped it in curry, and held it toward him. Seenu stared at the morsel in her fingers, then at her face, clearly uncertain.

Seenu: "You want to feed me?"

Devika: "Yes. We all need to be cared for sometimes."

He hesitated, then leaned forward and accepted the food from her fingers, his lips brushing against her skin. A strange intimacy hung in the air as he chewed slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Devika: "Good?"

Seenu: "The best meal I've had in years."

She continued feeding him, piece by piece. Each time, his lips lingered a moment longer against her fingers. The door was unlocked, someone could walk in any moment, yet the risk only heightened her awareness of every touch, every breath between them.

When she reached for a sweet gulab jamun from her dessert container, Seenu caught her wrist gently.

Seenu: "I've always loved these. My wife used to make them for special occasions."

His voice grew husky as he added, "Feed it to me... differently."

Devika: "Differently?"

Seenu: "With your mouth."

Devika froze, the sweet balanced between her fingers. She should be offended, should gather her things and leave. Instead, she stood and walked to the door, turning the lock with a decisive click.

When she returned to Seenu, she placed the gulab jamun between her lips and settled onto his lap, feeling his body tense beneath her. His hands automatically came to rest on her hips, steadying her.

Devika leaned forward, the sweet held delicately between her teeth. Their faces hovered inches apart, his breath warm against her skin. Seenu moved to meet her, taking half the sweet into his mouth, his lips pressing against hers in the process. The sugary syrup melted between them, sweet and sticky.

She felt his hardness beneath her, his grip on her waist tightening as they shared the dessert. When they'd finished, a thin strand of syrup connected their lips briefly before breaking.

Seenu: "Devika..."

His voice was thick with desire, but she placed a finger against his lips.

Devika: "That's enough for today."

She stood, straightening her saree and wiping her mouth delicately. Seenu remained seated, looking dazed.

Devika: "Perhaps we can share lunch again tomorrow. I make excellent payasam."

As she gathered her things and unlocked the door, she felt a shift in the power between them. For the first time since arriving at the college, she was the one in control—not just responding to others' desires, but directing them, using them. Saradha had been right about this much: there was power in being wanted, in deciding how much to give and when.


Devika made her way to the staff room, her body still humming with the aftereffects of her encounter with Seenu. The sensation of his lips against hers, separated only by the sweet gulab jamun, lingered pleasantly. As she entered, she spotted Saradha alone at the far table, grading papers.

Saradha glanced up, her eyebrows rising slightly as she noticed Devika's flushed appearance.

Saradha: "You look... different. Something happened?"

Devika hesitated, then closed the staff room door and approached Saradha's table. She sat down, checking that they were truly alone before leaning forward.

Devika: "I followed your advice."

Saradha set down her pen, giving Devika her full attention. "Which part, exactly?"

Devika: "All of it."

She described her encounter with Vishnu in the boys' toilet—how she'd taken him in her mouth, explored his body with increasing boldness, the shocking intimacy they'd shared. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper as she detailed how she'd disrobed for him, how she'd used her breasts, how she'd tasted him completely.

Saradha's eyes widened, her breathing quickening almost imperceptibly as she listened.

Saradha: "And he scored ninety-two percent? That's remarkable improvement."

Devika: "Yes. He studied all night after I promised him... rewards."

She continued, describing how she'd manipulated Pathan with similar promises, making him work harder for the possibility of intimacy. A small smile played across her lips as she recounted his eager response in class.

Devika: "And just now, with Seenu... I fed him lunch. By hand."

Saradha: "By hand?"

Devika: "And then... I locked his office door and shared a gulab jamun with him. Mouth to mouth."

Saradha's lips parted in surprise. "You didn't!"

Devika: "I did. I sat on his lap and felt him harden beneath me. But I left him wanting more."

A strange expression crossed Saradha's face—something like satisfaction mixed with excitement. She reached across the table, squeezing Devika's hand.

Saradha: "I knew you had it in you. The power to control these men through their desires."

Devika nodded, a new confidence evident in her posture. "You were right all along. When I first came here, I felt so helpless, so exposed to their stares and comments. But now..."

Saradha: "Now you're the one in control."

Devika: "Exactly. Vishnu's hands trembled when I allowed him to undress me. Pathan nearly fell out of his chair when I bent over his desk to check his work. And Seenu—I could feel him practically melting when I fed him."

Saradha leaned back, observing Devika with something like pride. "And how does it feel? This power?"

Devika considered the question, her fingers tracing patterns on the wooden table. "Intoxicating," she finally admitted. "When I was kneeling before Vishnu, I should have felt degraded, but instead... I felt powerful. Watching him come apart because of me, because of what my mouth could do to him..."

A flush crept up her neck as the memory washed over her.

Saradha: "And what about your husband? Has he called recently?"

Devika's expression hardened. "Yes. With the usual excuses about working late. I heard a woman's voice in the background before he quickly covered the phone."

Saradha: "And did you feel guilty about Vishnu? About Seenu?"

Devika: "That's the strange thing. I thought I would, but I don't. Not really. It feels like... reclaiming something that was taken from me."

Saradha nodded knowingly. "The guilt fades when you realize you're not the one who broke the contract first."

A comfortable silence settled between them as Devika absorbed this perspective. She had never thought of her marriage in terms of contracts, but perhaps that's exactly what it was—an agreement Rajeevan had already violated repeatedly.

Saradha: "So what's next with Vishnu? With Pathan?"

Devika smiled, a subtle, confident curve of her lips that would have been unrecognizable to anyone who knew her before.

Devika: "Pathan needs to earn what Vishnu received. I told him if he studies and scores well, I might watch those... videos he mentioned with him."

Saradha: "Adult films? Devika, that's brilliant! The anticipation alone will keep him focused for weeks."

Devika: "And Vishnu... I promised him more if his scores continue improving. Perhaps next time I'll let him touch more than just my waist."

Saradha's eyes gleamed with something like vicarious pleasure. "And Seenu? Will you feed him lunch again tomorrow?"

Devika: "Yes, but this time I might let him taste more than just gulab jamun."

The boldness of her own words surprised Devika, but she didn't retract them. Something fundamental had shifted within her—her conception of herself, of what she was capable of and entitled to.

Saradha: "You've taken to this strategy better than I could have hoped. These men who once thought they could control you—now they're the ones begging for your attention."

Devika nodded, feeling a surge of satisfaction. "It started as just doing what I needed to survive here, but now..."

Saradha: "Now you're enjoying it."

Devika: "Yes. I am."

She thought of Vishnu's expression when she'd taken him into her mouth, of Pathan's desperate attention during lecture, of Seenu's trembling lips against her fingers. These men who had once made her feel so small now orbited around her like planets around a sun, their trajectories completely under her control.

Devika: "I should have listened to you sooner, Saradha. All those weeks I spent feeling helpless, feeling violated by their stares and comments..."

Saradha: "You weren't ready then. You needed to come to this realization on your own."

Devika's phone vibrated in her purse. She checked it—a message from Vishnu, filled with gratitude and promises to study even harder for her.

Devika: "He wants to see me again tomorrow."

Saradha: "And will you?"

Devika considered this, turning the phone in her hands. "Not yet. Let him earn it with another excellent test score first."

Saradha: "Perfect. Make him work for every touch, every glimpse."

Devika: "I've told Pathan the same—no rewards until he matches Vishnu's performance."

Saradha gathered her papers, satisfied. "You've become quite the strategist, Devika. I admit I'm impressed with how completely you've embraced this approach."

As they prepared to leave the staff room, Devika paused by the door.

Devika: "There's one thing that still bothers me."

Saradha: "What's that?"

Devika: "Seenu mentioned something about Vishnu. About how he knows what happened between us. How could he know unless..."

Saradha: "Unless someone told him? Or unless he saw you."

A chill ran through Devika. "You don't think there are cameras in the toilets, do you?"

Saradha's expression revealed nothing. "I doubt it. More likely Vishnu couldn't keep his achievement entirely to himself. Boys that age—they boast, even when they promise secrecy."

Devika frowned, making a mental note to question Vishnu about this. If word was spreading, she needed to know how far and to whom.

Saradha: "Don't worry too much. Even if Seenu suspects something, what can he do? He's as compromised as anyone after your lunch together."

The thought brought a smile back to Devika's face. "You're right. We're all entangled now."

As they walked out into the corridor, Devika caught sight of herself in a window reflection—the same saree, the same face, but something fundamentally different in her eyes, in the set of her shoulders. The frightened woman who had arrived in Pune had vanished, replaced by someone who understood the currency of desire and wasn't afraid to spend it.

Saradha watched her with quiet satisfaction, as if observing the successful completion of an experiment. "Tomorrow will be interesting, won't it?"

Devika: "Very interesting indeed."

She thought of the various men now caught in her web—Vishnu with his desperate devotion, Pathan with his raw hunger, Seenu with his lonely vulnerability. Each one dancing to her tune, each one believing they had some special connection to her. In reality, they were merely players in her game now, a game whose rules she was still discovering but was increasingly eager to master.

Devika: "Thank you, Saradha. For showing me this path."

Saradha: "No need for thanks. Just keep me informed of your... progress. I find your adventures quite educational."

The gleam in Saradha's eyes might have given Devika pause had she noticed it—a hunger that went beyond mere interest in a colleague's welfare. But Devika was too absorbed in her own transformation to see the subtle signs that perhaps her mentor had motivations of her own.

As they parted ways in the parking lot, Devika felt a curious lightness. For the first time since arriving in Pune, she was looking forward to tomorrow—to the hungry looks, to the desperate attention, to the power that now rested firmly in her hands.

The proper Kerala wife was fading, replaced by a woman who understood that in a world where men took what they wanted, sometimes the greatest power lay in controlling what they desired most.

The morning sun filtered through the blinds as Devika approached Seenu's office, carrying her packed lunch. Yesterday's conversation with Saradha had emboldened her—transformed her understanding of power. She knocked lightly.

"Come in," Seenu called, his voice lifting with anticipation when he saw her.

Devika stepped inside, her saree dbangd elegantly around her curves, the pallu hanging slightly lower than usual. Seenu's eyes immediately tracked the movement.

Seenu: "Devika! I wasn't sure you would come today."

Devika: "I promised you payasam, didn't I?"

She locked the door behind her with deliberate slowness, watching how Seenu's eyes widened at the soft click. Moving toward his desk, she set down her tiffin boxes and began unpacking them methodically.

Seenu: "The department meeting got cancelled. We have the full lunch hour."

Devika smiled, arranging the food containers in a neat row. "Perfect timing."

She served rice and curry on a plate, then sat down on the edge of his desk rather than taking the chair opposite him. The position allowed her saree to dbang open slightly at her ankles.

Seenu: "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

Devika: "It's no trouble at all."

She gathered a small portion of rice with curry between her fingers and held it toward his mouth. Seenu leaned forward eagerly, his eyes locked with hers as his lips parted. His tongue briefly touched her fingertips as he accepted the food, sending a subtle current through her.

Seenu: "Delicious. Your cooking is exceptional."

Devika: "My husband never appreciates it. He prefers hotel food in Dubai."

She fed him another morsel, deliberately allowing her fingers to linger against his lips. Seenu's breathing deepened, his chest rising and falling more rapidly.

Seenu: "That man is a fool. How could anyone prefer restaurant food to this?"

Devika scooped up more rice, this time allowing some to stick to her fingers. When Seenu finished the bite, she offered her fingertip.

Devika: "There's some rice stuck here. Would you mind?"

Seenu hesitated only a moment before taking her finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digit, cleaning away the rice but continuing well after it was gone. Devika felt a warmth spread through her body, starting from where his mouth encircled her finger.

Devika: "He's been unfaithful, you know. Multiple women. I have video evidence."

Seenu released her finger reluctantly. "And yet you're still loyal to him?"

Devika: "Am I? Sitting here with you like this?"

She fed him another bite, watching his reaction. Rice stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Seenu reached up to wipe it away.

Devika: "No, let me."

Before he could react, Devika leaned forward and licked the corner of his mouth, slowly and deliberately removing the grain of rice with her tongue. Seenu froze, his breath catching in his throat.

Seenu: "Devika..."

She pulled back slightly, her face inches from his. "Did I overstep?"

Seenu: "No! No, not at all."

Devika opened another container, revealing semiya payasam—vermicelli pudding glistening with ghee and cardamom. Seenu reached for a spoon, but Devika took it from his hand and tossed it aside.

Devika: "I prefer a more direct approach."

She slid fully onto his lap now, feeling his immediate physical response beneath her. Seenu's hands instinctively moved to her waist, steadying her. The heat of her body against his made him inhale sharply.

Devika dipped her fingers into the sweet pudding and brought them to Seenu's lips. He eagerly accepted, sucking the sweetness from each finger with growing confidence.

Seenu: "I've never tasted anything so good."

Devika: "There are better ways to taste it."

She collected some vermicelli strands and syrup in her mouth, then leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. Seenu's eyes widened in shock before closing in pleasure. Their lips locked together as she pushed the sweet mixture into his mouth with her tongue.

The taste of cardamom and sugar mingled between them. Seenu's hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer against him. Devika broke away just enough to speak.

Devika: "Is this how you imagined feeding time would go?"

Seenu's heart hammered wildly against his ribs. His decades of fantasizing about younger colleagues had never resulted in anything like this reality. His voice came out hoarse.

Seenu: "I never dared to imagine this."

Devika licked a drop of sweet ghee from his lip, then extended her tongue to trace his. Seenu hesitantly met her tongue with his own. Their tongues danced together, exploring, tasting the sweetness that lingered.

Devika: "Your turn now."

Seenu: "My turn?"

Devika: "Feed me."

Understanding dawned on his face. With trembling fingers, Seenu scooped some payasam and placed it in his own mouth. Then, gathering courage, he pulled her close and sealed his lips over hers.

His tongue pushed the sweet mixture into her mouth, more forcefully than she had done. Devika accepted it, feeling the warm, sweet liquid slide across her tongue. She sucked gently on his tongue, drawing it deeper into her mouth.

Seenu groaned, his hands roaming more boldly now, tracing the curve of her back where her blouse met her saree. The ghee from the payasam made their lips slick and sweet.

Seenu: "I never thought a Kerala professor would allow me such liberties."

Devika smiled against his mouth. "There's much you don't know about Kerala women."

She pulled back slightly, reaching for another container she'd brought. Seenu watched, transfixed, as she unwrapped a paan—betel leaf with areca nut and sweet fillings.

Devika: "Have you ever shared paan with someone?"

Seenu: "Never. I didn't know you chewed paan."

Devika: "I don't. But today seems like a day for new experiences."

She placed half the paan in her mouth, then offered the other half to Seenu directly from her fingers. He took it eagerly, their eyes locked in understanding. The spicy-sweet flavor burst on their tongues as they chewed.

Devika leaned forward again, this time sharing the partially chewed paan in a deep, messy kiss. The red juice stained both their lips as their tongues tangled together. The sensation was entirely new to her—the texture, the taste, the intimacy of sharing something so foreign yet exciting.

Seenu: "A proper Kerala professor chewing paan? What would your colleagues say?"

Devika: "They wouldn't believe it. Just as they wouldn't believe I'm sitting on your lap right now."

The weight and heat of her body against him was driving Seenu to distraction. Her movements on his lap created a delicious friction that made him grip her waist tighter, trying to control himself.

Seenu: "Devika, you're driving me mad."

She smiled, enjoying the power she held over him. "Good. That's the point."

Devika shifted deliberately on his lap, feeling his hardness press against her. Seenu's eyes closed briefly, his self-control visibly slipping.

Devika: "Is this what you think about when you watch me in class through the CCTV?"

Seenu's eyes flew open in shock. "What? How did you—"

Devika: "Women always know when they're being watched."

She leaned close to his ear, her breath warm against his skin. "I might give you more to watch in the future, if you're good."

Seenu swallowed hard, his hands trembling against her waist. "What would that entail?"

Devika: "Better grades for Vishnu and Pathan. No questions about my teaching methods. Complete autonomy in my classroom."

Understanding dawned on his face. "You're... you're using this to control me."

Devika: "I'm offering a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get these lunch sessions, and I get professional respect."

Her fingers traced his jawline. "Is that so terrible?"

Seenu considered this for only a moment before pulling her closer. "Not terrible at all."

Devika: "Good. Same time tomorrow, then?"

She made to rise, but Seenu held her firmly on his lap.

Seenu: "Wait. The lunch hour isn't over yet."

Devika smiled, settling back onto him. "What else did you have in mind?"

Seenu: "More payasam. More... everything."

She dipped her fingers back into the sweet dish and brought them to his lips. As Seenu sucked them clean, Devika felt a surge of satisfaction unlike anything she'd known before. This was power—raw and immediate. The ability to reduce this man, who had once intimidated her, to a trembling supplicant.

Saradha had been right. The men who had made her feel small now orbited around her, controlled by their own desires. First Vishnu with his academic ambition mixed with lust, then Pathan competing for similar attention, and now Seenu—the head of department himself—eager for whatever scraps of affection she chose to offer.

As she fed him the remaining payasam and felt his hands grow bolder on her body, Devika realized she was no longer the same woman who had arrived in Pune. That woman had been afraid, constantly on guard against predatory gazes and unwanted advances.

This woman—the one currently making Seenu moan with a deliberate shift of her hips—was something else entirely. Someone who understood that power could flow in unexpected directions, that vulnerability could be transformed into strength.

When the lunch hour finally drew to a close, Devika straightened her saree and gathered her empty containers. Seenu looked dazed, his lips still stained slightly red from the paan, his eyes unfocused with lingering desire.

Devika: "I should go. My next class starts soon."

Seenu: "Tomorrow? Will you come tomorrow?"

The eagerness in his voice, the naked need, gave her a thrill she had never experienced in her marriage.

Devika: "Perhaps. If you're good."

She unlocked the door and stepped out into the corridor, leaving Seenu to compose himself. As she walked toward her classroom, Devika noticed several students watching her with curious expressions. Had they heard something? Did they suspect?

It didn't matter. Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

She was no longer afraid of their gaze. Now, she controlled it.

[prady12191]

For several days, Devika's life settled into an uneasy calm. Vishnu and Pathan had turned their attention to their studies, their usual predatory gazes replaced by an unusual focus on textbooks and lab work. Even Seenu had been preoccupied with administrative duties, leaving Devika with unexpected breathing room. She welcomed this reprieve, using the time to gather her scattered thoughts and regain some semblance of professional composure.

On Wednesday afternoon, as students filtered out of the biology lab, Devika noticed an older man lingering in the corridor. Short and slightly stooped, with a weathered face and rough, work-stained hands, he stood out among the college crowd. His clothes were faded but clean, and his eyes—searching, intent—reminded her of someone.

The man approached Vishnu, who had just exited the classroom. They spoke briefly, their conversation punctuated by gestures in Devika's direction. Vishnu nodded, pointing toward her while speaking rapidly in Marathi. The older man's gaze fixed on Devika, his eyes widening slightly as they traveled over her form, lingering on the curves visible beneath her saree.

Devika busied herself with her notes, pretending not to notice their attention. Through lowered lashes, she saw Vishnu lead the man away, their heads bent in conversation.

Later, as she gathered her belongings, Vishnu appeared at her desk.

Vishnu: "Madam, that was my father. He came to see where I study."

Devika looked up, her heart skipping inexplicably. "Your father? I didn't know he visited the college."

Vishnu: "First time, madam. He wanted to meet the professors who teach me. Especially after seeing my improved grades."

His eyes held a hint of mischief, reminding her of their bargain and its intimate rewards. Heat rose to her cheeks as she adjusted her saree pallu over her shoulder.

"I see," she replied carefully. "It's good he takes interest in your education."

Vishnu: "He asked about you specifically, madam. I told him you're my biology teacher from Kerala."

Devika stiffened. "You discussed me with your father?"

Vishnu: "Not like that, madam." He lowered his voice. "Just that you're a good teacher. That you help me understand... biology."

The word hung between them, laden with unspoken meaning. Devika gathered her papers more hurriedly, uncomfortable with this new development.

"Well, I hope you're continuing to focus on your studies," she said firmly. "That was our agreement."

Vishnu: "Yes, madam. I remember everything."



In a small, cluttered apartment across town, Dattu sat at his kitchen table, a glass of cheap whiskey in his calloused hand. The evening shadows stretched across the room as Vishnu prepared a simple meal of dal and rice.

"That Kerala teacher," Dattu said suddenly, breaking the silence. "She's something else."

Vishnu glanced up from the stove. "Professor Devika? Yes, she's a good teacher."

"Not talking about her teaching," Dattu snorted, taking another sip. "Those eyes... that waist... the way she walks. Don't see women like that around here."

Vishnu stirred the dal slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. He had expected this reaction—had counted on it, even. No man had ever seen Devika and remained unaffected.

"She's married," Vishnu said casually. "Her husband works in Dubai."

Dattu's eyebrows rose. "Dubai? So she's alone here?"

"Completely alone," Vishnu confirmed, serving the dal into bowls. "Lives in the college quarters. No family, no friends really. Just her work."

Dattu's weathered face creased in thought, his eyes distant. "These Kerala women... they're different. More... what's the word? Sensual. Even when they're being proper."

Vishnu placed the food on the table and sat across from his father. "She's very proper in class," he said, watching his father's reaction carefully. "But sometimes... sometimes she's different."

Dattu leaned forward, interest piqued. "Different how?"

Vishnu hesitated, then spoke in a low voice. "We were in the boys' toilet one day. She let me see her... touch her waist. Even let me kiss her navel."

Dattu's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're lying."

"I swear it happened," Vishnu insisted, meeting his father's skeptical gaze. "She even... she took care of me. With her mouth."

Dattu's glass froze halfway to his lips. He stared at his son, searching for signs of deception. Finding none, he set the glass down slowly.

"A proper Kerala professor? Did that to you?"

Vishnu nodded solemnly. "I can prove it. Ask her about the mole on her left hipbone. She has a small brown mole there. Only someone who's seen her undressed would know."

Dattu's breath quickened, his imagination racing with possibilities. He drained his glass in one swift motion.

"I want that," he said finally, his voice rough with desire. "I want what you had."

Vishnu served himself some rice, his movements deliberately casual. "It's not that simple, Papa. She trusts me because I'm her student. I earned it by studying hard, improving my grades."

Dattu drummed his fingers on the table, his mind working. "There must be a way."

"Maybe," Vishnu said thoughtfully. "But you can't just ask her. She'd be offended, might even report you. With these women, especially teachers, you need to be... strategic."

"Tell me how," Dattu demanded, refilling his glass.

Vishnu pushed his food around his plate. "She responds to sympathy. And to people who need her help." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "She's kind-hearted. If she thought someone was struggling, was in pain..."

"Like a sick old man?" Dattu suggested, catching on quickly.

Vishnu nodded. "Exactly. She'd want to help. That's how it starts—with her feeling needed. Then, once she trusts you, once she lets her guard down..."

"She might show the same... kindness... she showed you," Dattu finished, a slow smile spreading across his weathered face.

"It would take time," Vishnu warned. "Patience. You couldn't rush her or scare her off."

Dattu's eyes gleamed with determination. "For a woman like that? With curves like hers? I can be patient."

Vishnu observed his father's expression—the naked hunger there so similar to his own when he'd first noticed Professor Devika. Something primal and possessive stirred in him; he hadn't anticipated his father's interest would be quite so intense.

"Just remember," Vishnu said carefully, "she's still my professor. My grades depend on her."

Dattu waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry. I won't do anything to hurt your studies. But a woman like that, living alone... she has needs too. Needs her Dubai husband isn't meeting."

Vishnu nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty passed through him. He'd opened a door he wasn't entirely sure he wanted his father to walk through. Yet the thought of Devika—proud, proper Devika—being desired by both father and son sparked something darkly thrilling in him.

"We'll find a way," Dattu said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I want to taste what you tasted."

[prady12191]

The next morning, Vishnu sat at their small kitchen table, nursing a cup of black tea as his father paced the cramped space. The rising sun filtered through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the worn linoleum floor.

Dattu: "So? You said you found a way for me to meet her properly. Tell me quickly."

Vishnu set down his cup, a slow smile spreading across his face. "It's perfect, Papa. I won't go to college for a few days."

Dattu: "What? How does you skipping classes help me?"

"Because," Vishnu explained, leaning forward, "Professor Devika is invested in my grades now. In Pathan's too. We have a big exam coming next week—the one I've been studying for all month. She needs us to score well."

Dattu stopped pacing, his weathered face lighting up with understanding. He lowered himself into the chair opposite his son, the wooden legs creaking under his weight.

Dattu: "She'll notice if you're missing."

"Exactly. After two, maybe three days, she'll start to worry. Not just as a teacher, but..." Vishnu paused, lowering his voice despite them being alone, "because of our arrangement. She'll call, and when I don't answer, she'll come looking."

Dattu's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "And she'll find me instead."

"Yes. When she comes, tell her I've stopped attending college because you're forcing me to work at the garage. Tell her you need the money because—" Vishnu pointed at the half-empty bottle of cheap liquor on the counter, "—because you've been drinking too much lately."

Dattu: "I don't understand. Why would I tell her about my drinking?"

Vishnu leaned back, studying his father's eager face. "Because that's how you'll create sympathy. Listen carefully, Papa. When she asks about me, act surprised that I'm not in college. Then, after some pressing, admit that you've been making me work instead of study."

Dattu nodded slowly, following his son's instructions.

"Then—this is the important part—you need to look at her. Really look at her. Then tell her she reminds you of my mother. That seeing her brought back all your memories of Amma, and that's why you started drinking heavily again."

Understanding dawned on Dattu's face. "She'll feel sorry for me."

"More than that," Vishnu continued, his voice taking on an instructional tone. "Kerala women are raised to be nurturing. They can't resist helping a man they see as wounded. Make her see you as broken, Papa. Vulnerable. Let your voice crack when you talk about Amma. Maybe even let a tear fall if you can manage it."

Dattu: "And then?"

"Don't push for anything that first visit. Just establish the connection. Make her promise to talk to me about returning to college. Thank her for caring about my education when you've been too... distracted to do so properly."

Vishnu stood up, gathering his empty cup. "She'll come back. To check on me, to check on you. That's when you start building more. Offer her tea. Tell her more about Amma. How lonely you've been. How seeing her brought back feelings you thought were dead."

Dattu listened, a hungry expression crossing his face as he imagined the scenario unfolding.

Dattu: "And she'll fall for this? A woman like that?"

"She already has with others," Vishnu said confidently. "Just be patient. Don't rush. Let her think helping you is her idea."

Dattu nodded, his work-worn hands clasping together in anticipation. "When do we start?"

"Today," Vishnu replied, setting his cup in the sink. "I'll skip classes starting now. By Friday, she'll come looking."

Dattu smiled, the early morning light catching the gleam in his eyes. "I'll be waiting."

For two days, Vishnu's absence from the classroom created a noticeable void. Devika found herself glancing at his empty seat during lectures, the space somehow more conspicuous than when he occupied it with his intense gaze. By the third day, concern overrode her initial relief at his absence.

After class, she approached Pathan as he gathered his books.

"Have you heard from Vishnu?" she asked, keeping her voice professionally neutral. "He's missed several important sessions."

Pathan shrugged, his expression unreadable. "No idea, madam. He doesn't tell me everything."

"That's strange," Devika pressed. "You two are usually inseparable."

Pathan: "People have their own problems, madam. Maybe he's busy with something."

His dismissive tone only heightened her suspicion. Something wasn't right.

That evening in her apartment, Devika paced before finally reaching for her phone. Her finger hovered over Vishnu's name in her contacts list. The propriety of calling a student outside class hours nagged at her conscience, but her role as his teacher—and their complicated arrangement—gave her justification.

After three rings, Vishnu answered, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

Vishnu: "Hello, madam."

"Vishnu, you've missed three days of classes. The practical exam is next week, and you were doing so well." She paused, lowering her voice. "We had an agreement about your grades."

A heavy sigh came through the line. Vishnu: "I know, madam. I wanted to come, but I can't. I have to work now."

"Work? What about college?"

Vishnu: "We have debts, madam. Family debts. I have to help at my father's garage."

Devika sat on the edge of her bed, frowning. "But your education—"

Vishnu: "My father doesn't care about that anymore. He's... he's drinking again. Heavily. Stopped going to work himself. Says I have to cover for him."

The defeat in his voice tugged at something in Devika. She thought of his improved grades, his eager participation in class. All that progress, now threatened.

"Why has your father started drinking again?" she asked softly.

Another sigh. Vishnu: "I don't know, madam. He was doing okay for months. Then suddenly... I think something reminded him of my mother. He gets like this sometimes."

Devika thought of the weathered man she'd seen in the corridor—small, slightly stooped, with eyes that reminded her of Vishnu's. Behind that rough exterior, was there pain?

"Is there no one who can talk to him? Make him understand how important your education is?"

Vishnu: "It's just the two of us, madam. Has been since my mother died."

Devika straightened her shoulders, making a decision. "What if I spoke to him? Teacher to parent? Perhaps he'd listen to me."

A pause. Vishnu: "No, madam. I can't ask you to do that. It's my family problem. You shouldn't get involved—it might cause trouble for you."

"Nonsense," Devika said firmly. "It's my duty as your teacher. Your performance affects my record too. I want to help."

Vishnu: "Are you sure, madam? My father... he's not like the educated people you usually deal with."

"I'm quite capable of handling different types of people, Vishnu." A trace of her old confidence returned to her voice. "Give me your address. I'll visit tomorrow."

Vishnu: "If you insist, madam. But please don't tell him I asked you to come. He might get angry with me."

"Of course not. I'll simply express concern about your absence." Devika wrote down the address as Vishnu recited it. "Don't worry. I'll handle this diplomatically."

After ending the call, Devika sat still, phone in hand. The appropriate thing would be to involve the college administration, perhaps speak to Seenu first. But something held her back—the memory of Vishnu's struggles, his gradual improvement under her guidance.

She would go alone. One conversation with his father might be all it took to get Vishnu back on track.

Little did she know that across town, Vishnu was smiling as he set down his phone, turning to his father with triumphant eyes.

[Rocky@handsome]

Awesome, Transforming Devika Is Just Simply Outstanding — Keep Coming ❤️❤️