06-04-2026, 05:56 AM
The surveillance feed flickered, another quadrant blinked alive. Priya emerged from the hallway shadows, half-carrying, half-dragging Ma toward the living room. Ma limped, her gait unsteady, her fingers clutching Priya’s forearm like a drowning woman. She wore a simple cotton nightgown—thin, cream-colored, clinging to her damp skin. The pearl necklace was still there, stark against her collarbone.
Ravi’s head snapped up. His glass hit the bar with a sharp crack. “Why the hell is she dressed?” The words dripped venom. Priya froze mid-step, her grip tightening around Ma’s waist. Ma swayed, her legs trembling visibly even through the grainy footage. “She was shivering, sir,” Priya murmured, eyes downcast. “I thought—”
“Get that nightie off. Now.” Ravi was already moving, his bare feet slapping against marble. Ma whimpered, a sound like silk tearing and tried to backpedal, but Priya held firm. “No, please,” Ma gasped, fingers fluttering to the pearl necklace like a shield. “Not again. Not—”
Ravi grabbed a fistful of damp nightgown and yanked. The fabric split down the middle with a wet rip, exposing Ma’s trembling body underneath—still flushed from the shower, still marked. The pearls swung wildly against the bite-darkened peaks of her breasts. She made a desperate grab for the torn cloth, but Ravi caught her wrist mid-air. “You’re not done,” he growled, pulling her flush against his chest. Ma’s breasts crushed against him, her nipples stiffening involuntarily against his damp skin.
“No please—” Ma twisted her face away as Ravi’s mouth descended, but he seized her hair at the roots, wrenching her head back. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, possessive and punishing. Ma gagged against the invasion, her muffled cries vibrating against his lips. Her hands fluttered weakly at his sides, too drugged to push, too broken to fight. Priya stood frozen, watching as Ravi’s free hand groped down Ma’s bare thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip.
Mallika’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough.”
Ravi froze mid-grope, Ma’s thigh still hitched over his hip. His knuckles whitened against her flesh, but he didn’t release her. Ma’s breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers curled into helpless fists against his chest. The pearls trembled between them, catching the light with each uneven rise of her ribs.
"Ask her," Mallika commanded, swirling her untouched sherry. The ice had long melted.
Ravi loosened his grip just enough to tilt Ma's chin up. Her lips, still swollen from earlier, parted slightly—whether to speak or gasp, it was unclear. "Will you go to the security officer?" His thumb traced the crescent-shaped bruise blooming beneath her jaw.
Ma's eyes darted to Mallika, then back to Ravi. The pearls quivered against her throat as she swallowed. "N-no," she whispered, the word barely audible.
Ravi chuckled, smoothing a damp strand of hair from her forehead with mock tenderness. "Of course not," he murmured. "My good girl knows better. You know what people think about you if you reveal everything " His thumb traced the purple bite mark blooming on her shoulder. "Just a spoiled goods." The pearls clinked softly as Ma shuddered, her knees buckling. Ravi caught her effortlessly, his hands sliding down to grip her bare hips.
Their lips met again-wet, obscene and when he pulled away, silver strands of saliva stretched between them like spider silk. Ma whimpered, her fingers twitching against his chest. "P-please," she gasped, her voice raw. "I... I need to rest—"
Ravi's grip tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her hips. "Rest?" he murmured against her temple, inhaling sharply as if savoring the scent of her sweat. "The night's barely started." His thumb brushed the hollow of her throat where the pearls rested, pressing just enough to make her breath hitch. " I wanted to make you feel special, Debjani. All night." Ma's legs buckled again, her knees hitting the marble with a sickening crack. Ravi caught her halfway down, hauling her upright against him.
Mallika set her glass down with a sharp click. "Enough, Ravi,” she snapped, her sculpted nails flashing in the low light as she gestured toward Ma's trembling form. "Look at her, she can barely stand. She's exhausted, and she won't survive another round. Let her go home and sleep." Her voice softened, turning syrupy as she leaned forward. "Treat her like your flower, not your rag. We want her fresh”
Ravi exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers tightening momentarily around Ma's wrist before reluctantly loosening. His thumb traced the purple marks blooming along her inner arm,finger-shaped bruises already darkening. "My queen," he murmured suddenly, bending to drag his tongue up Ma's sweat-slicked cheek in one long, possessive stroke. She flinched, her breath hitching as his lips grazed the shell of her ear. "Keep those legs loose for me," he whispered, teeth scbanging her earlobe. "Next time I won’t stop so easily”
"Take them home, ask my driver to drive them home and go with them as well" Mallika ordered, gesturing vaguely toward Priya. "Debjani needs a good rest. She can get that only at her home.Priya, you carry the food that she did not have today." She didn’t look at Ma again.
Priya adjusted her grip, half-carrying, half-dragging Ma toward the exit door.
Ravi uncle stopped Priya, "Wait." He turned to Mallika. "Take Ayan separately.” His voice was silk-wrapped steel.
Rohan’s fingers trembled over the laptop keys, his pupils blown wide in the dim glow. “She’s coming,” he hissed, slamming the screen shut just as the doorknob twisted. The scent of Mallika’s tuberose perfume slithered through the gap in the door before she entered the room.
“Ayan.” Her voice was honey poured over crushed glass. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, one manicured hand resting on her hip. “Time to go.” Her gaze flicked to the laptop, then back to me. Something glinted behind her obsidian eyes, calculation or amusement, I couldn’t tell.
The elevator ride down was suffocating. Mallika hummed along , her reflection warped in the polished brass. My own face looked different. The doors slid open to the garage’s fluorescent glare. There, slumped against her car backseat like a discarded doll, was Ma. She was wearing the same saree that she had worn in the evening. But the blouse that she was wearing was not hers. It was hardly able to hold her boobs. Somehow, Priya has managed to wrap her naked body with her saree and that blouse within a few minutes.The pearls still hang around her neck, stark against the bruises. Priya sat rigid beside her, hands folded over a tiffin carrier.
I slid in beside Priya, “How is she?” My whisper sounded too loud in the silence. Priya didn’t turn her head. Her fingers tightened around the tiffin. “She needs rest,” she murmured, echoing Mallika’s words with mechanical precision. Through the rearview mirror, I caught the driver’s darting glance towards my mom.
The car crawled through Kolkata’s midnight streets, past shuttered shops and flickering neon signs reflected in rain-slicked asphalt. Ma slumped against Priya, her head lolling against the window glass. Priya kept one hand firmly on Ma’s shoulder, the other resting on the insulated bag of food beside her. When we pulled up to our narrow lane, Priya and the driver hauled Ma out. She whimpered softly as they lifted her. Priya supported most of her weight, her face impassive under the street light. The driver followed, carrying the food bag.
Inside our cramped flat, Priya directed the driver towards Ma’s bedroom. They laid her gently on the bed. Priya efficiently pulled the thin cotton sheet over her, tucking it around her shoulders. Ma’s eyes opened for a second – glazed, unfocused – then closed again. Priya moved to the kitchenette. I heard the fridge door open, the clink of containers being placed inside. "Food is stored," Priya stated flatly as she reappeared in the bedroom doorway. "She must eat when she is awake." She glanced at Ma’s still form. "Allow your mom to take rest now…That is best for her" Without another word, she nodded to the driver, and they left. I locked the door.
The silence crashed down. Only Ma’s shallow breathing filled the room. I pulled my thin mattress beside her bed. I couldn’t sleep. Every rustle of the sheet, every sigh, made me jerk upright. Hours crawled by. Ma seemed colder than usual beneath the thin sheet, shivering sometimes despite the humid Kolkata night. "Ma?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "Are you okay?" Her eyelids fluttered open. "Fine, Ayan," she breathed, the words slurred and thick. "Sleep." Her hand weakly patted the air near mine. She closed her eyes again. The shivering continued intermittently.
Morning light seeped through the grimy window, painting stripes on the dusty floor. Ma lay unnervingly still, facing the wall, I could see how tightly her boobs were hold by that blouse. The quiet was heavy, suffocating. Her phone lay beside her pillow, buzzing faintly. Multiple notifications lit up the screen – Ravi Uncle’s name flashing repeatedly. Ma had shared her passcode long ago so I could call Grandmother while she cooked. My fingers hovered, trembling. I glanced at Ma’s rigid back. She didn’t stir. After finding me awake, mom asked me what I wanted to have for breakfast. She took the mobile from my hand and kept it on the bedside table.
I hesitated. The thought of food twisted my stomach. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice strange, too soft, too careful. She pushed herself upright with a muffled gasp, her fingers digging into the mattress. The sheet slipped, revealing the edge of a purple-black bruise peeking from her neck. She yanked the fabric up hastily.
"Ma, you're not looking…"
"Fine," she cut in, that awful smile stretching her lips again. Her eyes skittered away from mine, landing on the kitchen doorway like an escape route. "Tell me what you want to have for breakfast. Your favorite egg-toast?"
The phone buzzed on the bedside table, a slow, insistent vibration that inched it toward the edge with each pulse. *Ravi Uncle (3 Missed Calls)* glowed beneath the screen. Avoiding my eyes, she snatched her buzzing phone from the bedside table. "I’ll make toast." She shuffled towards the kitchenette, clutching her ribs, and covering her body carefully with her saree.
![[Image: IMG-9545.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/qLXT7NmQ/IMG-9545.jpg)
Ravi’s head snapped up. His glass hit the bar with a sharp crack. “Why the hell is she dressed?” The words dripped venom. Priya froze mid-step, her grip tightening around Ma’s waist. Ma swayed, her legs trembling visibly even through the grainy footage. “She was shivering, sir,” Priya murmured, eyes downcast. “I thought—”
“Get that nightie off. Now.” Ravi was already moving, his bare feet slapping against marble. Ma whimpered, a sound like silk tearing and tried to backpedal, but Priya held firm. “No, please,” Ma gasped, fingers fluttering to the pearl necklace like a shield. “Not again. Not—”
Ravi grabbed a fistful of damp nightgown and yanked. The fabric split down the middle with a wet rip, exposing Ma’s trembling body underneath—still flushed from the shower, still marked. The pearls swung wildly against the bite-darkened peaks of her breasts. She made a desperate grab for the torn cloth, but Ravi caught her wrist mid-air. “You’re not done,” he growled, pulling her flush against his chest. Ma’s breasts crushed against him, her nipples stiffening involuntarily against his damp skin.
“No please—” Ma twisted her face away as Ravi’s mouth descended, but he seized her hair at the roots, wrenching her head back. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, possessive and punishing. Ma gagged against the invasion, her muffled cries vibrating against his lips. Her hands fluttered weakly at his sides, too drugged to push, too broken to fight. Priya stood frozen, watching as Ravi’s free hand groped down Ma’s bare thigh, hiking her leg up around his hip.
Mallika’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough.”
Ravi froze mid-grope, Ma’s thigh still hitched over his hip. His knuckles whitened against her flesh, but he didn’t release her. Ma’s breath came in ragged gasps, her fingers curled into helpless fists against his chest. The pearls trembled between them, catching the light with each uneven rise of her ribs.
"Ask her," Mallika commanded, swirling her untouched sherry. The ice had long melted.
Ravi loosened his grip just enough to tilt Ma's chin up. Her lips, still swollen from earlier, parted slightly—whether to speak or gasp, it was unclear. "Will you go to the security officer?" His thumb traced the crescent-shaped bruise blooming beneath her jaw.
Ma's eyes darted to Mallika, then back to Ravi. The pearls quivered against her throat as she swallowed. "N-no," she whispered, the word barely audible.
Ravi chuckled, smoothing a damp strand of hair from her forehead with mock tenderness. "Of course not," he murmured. "My good girl knows better. You know what people think about you if you reveal everything " His thumb traced the purple bite mark blooming on her shoulder. "Just a spoiled goods." The pearls clinked softly as Ma shuddered, her knees buckling. Ravi caught her effortlessly, his hands sliding down to grip her bare hips.
Their lips met again-wet, obscene and when he pulled away, silver strands of saliva stretched between them like spider silk. Ma whimpered, her fingers twitching against his chest. "P-please," she gasped, her voice raw. "I... I need to rest—"
Ravi's grip tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh above her hips. "Rest?" he murmured against her temple, inhaling sharply as if savoring the scent of her sweat. "The night's barely started." His thumb brushed the hollow of her throat where the pearls rested, pressing just enough to make her breath hitch. " I wanted to make you feel special, Debjani. All night." Ma's legs buckled again, her knees hitting the marble with a sickening crack. Ravi caught her halfway down, hauling her upright against him.
Mallika set her glass down with a sharp click. "Enough, Ravi,” she snapped, her sculpted nails flashing in the low light as she gestured toward Ma's trembling form. "Look at her, she can barely stand. She's exhausted, and she won't survive another round. Let her go home and sleep." Her voice softened, turning syrupy as she leaned forward. "Treat her like your flower, not your rag. We want her fresh”
Ravi exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers tightening momentarily around Ma's wrist before reluctantly loosening. His thumb traced the purple marks blooming along her inner arm,finger-shaped bruises already darkening. "My queen," he murmured suddenly, bending to drag his tongue up Ma's sweat-slicked cheek in one long, possessive stroke. She flinched, her breath hitching as his lips grazed the shell of her ear. "Keep those legs loose for me," he whispered, teeth scbanging her earlobe. "Next time I won’t stop so easily”
"Take them home, ask my driver to drive them home and go with them as well" Mallika ordered, gesturing vaguely toward Priya. "Debjani needs a good rest. She can get that only at her home.Priya, you carry the food that she did not have today." She didn’t look at Ma again.
Priya adjusted her grip, half-carrying, half-dragging Ma toward the exit door.
Ravi uncle stopped Priya, "Wait." He turned to Mallika. "Take Ayan separately.” His voice was silk-wrapped steel.
Rohan’s fingers trembled over the laptop keys, his pupils blown wide in the dim glow. “She’s coming,” he hissed, slamming the screen shut just as the doorknob twisted. The scent of Mallika’s tuberose perfume slithered through the gap in the door before she entered the room.
“Ayan.” Her voice was honey poured over crushed glass. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, one manicured hand resting on her hip. “Time to go.” Her gaze flicked to the laptop, then back to me. Something glinted behind her obsidian eyes, calculation or amusement, I couldn’t tell.
The elevator ride down was suffocating. Mallika hummed along , her reflection warped in the polished brass. My own face looked different. The doors slid open to the garage’s fluorescent glare. There, slumped against her car backseat like a discarded doll, was Ma. She was wearing the same saree that she had worn in the evening. But the blouse that she was wearing was not hers. It was hardly able to hold her boobs. Somehow, Priya has managed to wrap her naked body with her saree and that blouse within a few minutes.The pearls still hang around her neck, stark against the bruises. Priya sat rigid beside her, hands folded over a tiffin carrier.
I slid in beside Priya, “How is she?” My whisper sounded too loud in the silence. Priya didn’t turn her head. Her fingers tightened around the tiffin. “She needs rest,” she murmured, echoing Mallika’s words with mechanical precision. Through the rearview mirror, I caught the driver’s darting glance towards my mom.
The car crawled through Kolkata’s midnight streets, past shuttered shops and flickering neon signs reflected in rain-slicked asphalt. Ma slumped against Priya, her head lolling against the window glass. Priya kept one hand firmly on Ma’s shoulder, the other resting on the insulated bag of food beside her. When we pulled up to our narrow lane, Priya and the driver hauled Ma out. She whimpered softly as they lifted her. Priya supported most of her weight, her face impassive under the street light. The driver followed, carrying the food bag.
Inside our cramped flat, Priya directed the driver towards Ma’s bedroom. They laid her gently on the bed. Priya efficiently pulled the thin cotton sheet over her, tucking it around her shoulders. Ma’s eyes opened for a second – glazed, unfocused – then closed again. Priya moved to the kitchenette. I heard the fridge door open, the clink of containers being placed inside. "Food is stored," Priya stated flatly as she reappeared in the bedroom doorway. "She must eat when she is awake." She glanced at Ma’s still form. "Allow your mom to take rest now…That is best for her" Without another word, she nodded to the driver, and they left. I locked the door.
The silence crashed down. Only Ma’s shallow breathing filled the room. I pulled my thin mattress beside her bed. I couldn’t sleep. Every rustle of the sheet, every sigh, made me jerk upright. Hours crawled by. Ma seemed colder than usual beneath the thin sheet, shivering sometimes despite the humid Kolkata night. "Ma?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "Are you okay?" Her eyelids fluttered open. "Fine, Ayan," she breathed, the words slurred and thick. "Sleep." Her hand weakly patted the air near mine. She closed her eyes again. The shivering continued intermittently.
Morning light seeped through the grimy window, painting stripes on the dusty floor. Ma lay unnervingly still, facing the wall, I could see how tightly her boobs were hold by that blouse. The quiet was heavy, suffocating. Her phone lay beside her pillow, buzzing faintly. Multiple notifications lit up the screen – Ravi Uncle’s name flashing repeatedly. Ma had shared her passcode long ago so I could call Grandmother while she cooked. My fingers hovered, trembling. I glanced at Ma’s rigid back. She didn’t stir. After finding me awake, mom asked me what I wanted to have for breakfast. She took the mobile from my hand and kept it on the bedside table.
I hesitated. The thought of food twisted my stomach. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice strange, too soft, too careful. She pushed herself upright with a muffled gasp, her fingers digging into the mattress. The sheet slipped, revealing the edge of a purple-black bruise peeking from her neck. She yanked the fabric up hastily.
"Ma, you're not looking…"
"Fine," she cut in, that awful smile stretching her lips again. Her eyes skittered away from mine, landing on the kitchen doorway like an escape route. "Tell me what you want to have for breakfast. Your favorite egg-toast?"
The phone buzzed on the bedside table, a slow, insistent vibration that inched it toward the edge with each pulse. *Ravi Uncle (3 Missed Calls)* glowed beneath the screen. Avoiding my eyes, she snatched her buzzing phone from the bedside table. "I’ll make toast." She shuffled towards the kitchenette, clutching her ribs, and covering her body carefully with her saree.
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