[kangaani]

Falling in love.. my foot shitttttt

[Umavictor32]

Falling in love.. my foot  shitttttt

Thanks for ur feedback ...
But this story has a love angle..

[angelica]

Without emotional depth, reducing her transformation strictly to the corruption would be disastrous. A narrative where a man engages in elaborate planning, manipulation, deception, and strategic execution merely to turn her into a mindless whore quickly becomes mundane, leading to an entirely predictable conclusion

[Vijay kinh]

Give the fast update we are excited

[Umavictor32]

Chapter 25: The Trap She Set

[Location: Muthu's house, Besant Nagar | Day: Friday | Date: 1st January 2027 | Time: 5:00 PM]

The afternoon had cooled into the blue hour. In the big bedroom with the mirrored ceiling, the curtains were half drawn, and the sea whispered somewhere beyond the glass. Chithra lay on her side with her back to Muthu. Naked. The sheets twisted low at her hips. The afternoon's salt and sweat had been rinsed off, but there was no soap smell, only warm skin and the faintest trace of jasmine oil from the den.

Muthu's arm lay across her waist, heavy and still. His chest pressed along her spine, his breath even against her shoulder. For a long while neither of them spoke. Then his thumb moved—one slow stroke over the curve of her hip..

[img]<a href=[/img]" />


"Why sudden transformation?"

Chithra's eyes were open, fixed on the far wall. "What do you mean?"

"I don't suspect the sex you had with me last night—December thirty-first." His voice was low, careful. "But whatever is happening today makes me confused. Is this some trap for me? Or are you really changing? Did you really become my whore?"

She didn't reply. Her body stayed still under his arm, her breath shallow.

Muthu turned her. His hand on her shoulder, not rough, but firm enough to roll her onto her back. He looked into her eyes. The fading light caught the glisten there—not tears yet, but something wet. "Is this some kind of trap?"

Chithra's lips parted. "Yes." Her voice was steady. "This is a trap."

Shock hit him. His face emptied for a half-second, then his hand shot to her throat. Not squeezing at first—just the weight of his palm over her windpipe.


[img]<a href=[/img]" />

 Then his fingers flexed, and her air cut off. Chithra didn't fight. She didn't claw. She lay motionless under him, her eyes open and fixed on his, her pulse beating slow and hard against his thumb.

For three seconds. Five. Eight.

His hand dropped.

"Fuck off," he said, thrusting himself up. "Get up. Go from here." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her upright, pushing her legs off the bed. "Go."

Chithra rose slowly. She didn't run. She pulled the white towel from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her body, tucking it above her breasts. Then she turned to face him.

"This is the attitude of all men." Her voice came from deep in her chest. "You force a woman to have sex. Make her under your control. Make her impure. But inside you there is always a fright—what if we women react? And the moment we start to react, you panic."

Muthu stood naked beside the bed, chest heaving, watching her face.

Chithra took a step closer. "Why don't you ask the question 'why' rather than getting panic?"

Something shifted in his gaze. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Then he sat back on the edge of the bed, silent. "Proceed."

Chithra stood in the middle of the room, the towel hanging low on her hips now, her breasts bare, her hair loose.

[img]<a href=[/img]

"Think from my point of view. I'm a twenty-four-year-old Madurai girl. Married to a man I never saw before the wedding. I had an affair before—someone I loved—but my parents didn't see my heart. I thought at least the man who married me would understand me." Her voice cracked. "But from the day he married, he focused only on sex, sex, sex. Everywhere I went, he kept asking about sex. Taunting me for not giving it to him. I told him before itself that I was in love with someone else, but he didn't listen. He just wanted me. My body."

Her face twisted. "That made me angry. Disinterested. Yes, I purposely kept my pussy unwashed after urinating because I didn't want to have sex with that asshole. Still I took care of him. When society started barking, I let him touch me three or four times to get a child. We could have opted for IVF, but I didn't. I let him touch."

Muthu didn't speak. He watched her, his hands braced on his knees.

"After Aaryan was born, I kept my distance again. He destroyed my love. I can't accept it."

Tears broke. They ran down her cheeks, over her chin, spotting the towel. Her shoulders shook. "This house in Porur—it was his choice, not mine. I said we shouldn't buy a house now. Now you can ask why i didnt apply divorce that time...?? You can ask who gave you meal and shelter....?? If i had so much confidence to give divorce, do you think i would have married him firstly... Food he gave and shelter he provided, i consider it as a salary for taking care of his house and his child..Chithra cried...

[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Then.... you came into our lives from somewhere. I thought my husband would protect me at least this time. But he used me like property. He pimped me." Her voice rose, raw. "And still I forgave him!"

She was crying hard now, the sobs violent. Muthu's face was wooden, unreadable.

"But still you are better than him, Muthu." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "You fucked me that one night. Next day you took your revenge by taking me to that theater, then left me. That's all you wanted. I thought everything had come to an end. I was happy, waiting for Aaryan and him. We decided to start a new life. But that bastard killed my son."

The word son came out shattered.

"These two months, do you think I never went to meet him in Puzhal? December twenty-eighth, I went. I met Vijay." She held his gaze. "He told me he only killed my son. To be frank, I thought it might be your plan to get me—by killing my son or forcing my husband to do it. But he said no. He said he did it on his own. I was completely broken."

Muthu listened. His face gave nothing. Without looking away from her, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. His thumb moved—quick, precise—typing a message. He sent it to Puzhal warden Govind, the man who ran the psychiatric ward they called the corona ward. The message asked: was there any visitor for Vijay on December twenty-sixth?

Chithra didn't see. She kept going, her hands shaking at her sides.

"Two months I was confused. I didn't know what to do. The money I got from Vijay's office can't keep me alive for long. What else could I do? I tried suicide twice. The first time I didn't have the confidence. The second time, the neighbour caught me."

She swallowed, her voice dropping low.

"Now what else can I do? I am completely caged. So I decided this. This is a trap I am putting on myself to safeguard me. I know you will destroy me. So let me die by destruction. At least you will be happy. That's the reason I am accepting being your whore and doing whatever you told me till now."

A buzz. Muthu's phone lit up. A WhatsApp message from Govind had popped on the screen: a photo of Chithra taken that day, and the register signature page, clear and undeniable. What she said was true.

Muthu looked at the image for a long moment. Then he stood. The phone remained on the bed. He walked slowly across the room, each step unhurried, until he was directly in front of her.

He didn't speak. Just reached out and pulled her into him. His arms wrapped around her bare shoulders, one hand cradling the back of her head. The towel slipped, but neither moved to fix it.

"RIGHT DECISION," he said into her hair. "RIGHT DECISION."

His voice was rough, almost tender. She cried against his chest, her tears sliding over his skin, and his arms held tighter. The sea air came through the window, cool and salt-clean, and the room settled into silence.

[img]<a href=[/img]

[girrich9486]

Congratulations for 50K k to your story.

[Umavictor32]

Congratulations for 50K k to your story.

Thanks

[aravindkkumar08]

Hey bro make small correction. The attached image not suited with story. Includes indian image which you include earlier. Foreigner not connecting to story

[Umavictor32]

Chapter 26: The Weight of Promises:

(Continuation from chapter 25)

Muthu looked at the image for a long moment. Then he stood. The phone remained on the bed. He walked slowly across the room, each step unhurried, until he was directly in front of her.


He didn't speak. Just reached out and pulled her into him. His arms wrapped around her bare shoulders, one hand cradling the back of her head. The towel slipped, but neither moved to fix it.

"RIGHT DECISION," he said into her hair. "RIGHT DECISION....



His voice was rough, almost tender. She cried against his chest, her tears sliding over his skin, and his arms held tighter. The sea air came through the window, cool and salt-clean, and the room settled into silence.


Her crying quietened in stages—from heaving sobs to shuddering breaths to the occasional hiccup against his chest.Muthu didn't rush her. He stood solid, his arms locked around her, one hand tracing slow circles on her back. The sea air moved through the room, lifting the edge of the curtain, and the light outside had deepened from blue to violet.

When her breathing steadied, he eased back just enough to look at her face. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red, her lips parted and wet. He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, the gesture deliberate, almost ceremonial.

"Listen to me," he said. "I'm going to say something. You will not interrupt. You will not argue. You will only hear."

She blinked, waiting.

"Your husband is a dead man walking. He killed your son. He doesn't get to live. That's not revenge—that's cleaning. I will handle it. You will not ask how. You will not involve yourself. When it's done, you will know, and you will not speak of it again."

He paused, his hand still on her face.

"Second thing. You are not my whore. You never were. The things I said, the things I did—that was me being a bastard because I thought you were playing games with me. But you were not playing. You were drowning. I see that now."

His jaw tightened. He looked toward the window, then back at her.

"A man wishes a woman to be a slut, to destroy her ego and make her worthless until and unless she falls for him. Once a woman falls for him, once a woman gives up and says, 'I am ready to be a slave, take me as your responsibility,' then no guy will ever again try to destroy such a person. Every man enjoys it when a woman tells him that she is ready to give herself to him. Never in his life will he destroy such a person."

Chithra's lower lip trembled. She looked down at the floor, at the towel pooled around her feet. "I don't know what to do now," she whispered. "I have nothing." Chithra cried covering her face...



"You have me.".. Muthu replied...

The words hung in the dim light.

She looked up sharply, searching his face for mockery, for the cruel twist of his mouth she had come to expect. But his expression was still—serious, bare, almost young in its lack of armor.

"For how long?" she asked. "Until you get bored? Until I say no to something?"

"No," he said. "Until you tell me to stop. And even then, I might not."

She let out a breath that was half laugh, half sob. "That's not a promise. That's a threat."

"Maybe." He shrugged, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "But it's the only one I know how to make."

She stood there, naked, exposed, her arms wrapped around herself now. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Muthu turned, picked up the fallen towel, and dbangd it over her shoulders—not wrapping it, just covering her like a shawl.

"Come," he said. "Let's sit."

He led her to the armchair by the window—the one with the wide arms and the faded velvet upholstery. He sat first, then pulled her onto his lap. She settled sideways, her legs dangling over one arm, her head against his shoulder. The towel fell open, but neither adjusted it. He pulled the edge of the curtain aside with his free hand, and they watched the sea turn from violet to indigo, the first pinprick of a star appearing over the dark water.

"You stay here," Muthu said. "This house, this room—it's yours tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go to Porur and get your things. Whatever you want to keep. Whatever you want to leave. You decide."

"And after that?"

"After that, you decide what you want to do with your life. You're twenty-four. You can start again. You can go back to Madurai. You can stay in Chennai. You can travel. I have money—enough to give you a start if you want it."

She pulled back to look at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you're not my enemy," he said simply. "And because I think you've been fighting alone for too long."

Her eyes searched his. The tears were gone now, replaced by something harder to name—gratitude, suspicion, hope, all tangled together.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"I know."

"I might never trust you."

"I know that too."

Muthu said, "Chithra... I have killed many people... I am a womanizer... I will never change... But with you, I won't show my evil face. After the Periyamalai University issue, I became Sethuraman's henchman. To get into his good books, I had to do many dreadful things, which I did without any issue. But trust me, never in my life have I killed a child. Why I am saying this is because many among our team, including Sethuraman MLA, think that I am behind the death of your son and Nirmala. I forced Vijay to accept the murder and be in jail. But it's not true. If Nirmala was alone, I may have killed her as she is of no use to me, but I have never killed a child to date in my life."

She was quiet for a moment. Then she leaned forward, very slowly, and pressed her forehead to his. Her breath was warm against his lips.

"But I will stay tonight," she whispered. "Because I'm too tired to run."

Muthu's hand found hers on his thigh. He laced his fingers through hers and held on.

Outside, the sea kept its rhythm. The star grew brighter. And the room, for the first time in months, felt less like a cage and more like a place where something might begin.

The silence between them wasn't empty. It was thick with things unsaid, with the slow shift of her weight against his chest, with the occasional brush of his thumb over her knuckles. The curtain swayed in the breeze, a soft fsh-fsh against the window frame, and from somewhere far down the beach came the hollow bark of a stray dog.

Chithra's head settled deeper into the curve of his neck. Her body, which had been rigid with crying, began to soften. The towel had slipped entirely now, pooling around her hips on his lap, but the night air wasn't cold. It was warm and salted, and it moved over her bare skin like a second breath.

"You should eat something," Muthu said quietly.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need food. You haven't eaten since lunch."

"I can't think about food right now."

He sighed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Then at least drink water."

She smiled—a small, tired thing against his collarbone. "You're already trying to take care of me."

"Is that wrong?"

"I don't know. It's strange." She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "Everything about this is strange."

Muthu looked at her for a long moment. Then he shifted, one arm coming under her knees, the other behind her back, and stood with her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gasped softly, her hands flying to his shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting you to bed."

He carried her across the room toward the wide white bed. The towel fell away somewhere along the journey, left behind on the floor. He lowered her onto the sheets, and they were cool and smooth against her heated skin. He didn't climb in beside her. Instead, he pulled a light cotton sheet up to her waist and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sleep," he said. "I'll stay here."

"You don't have to—"

"I know." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "But I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

Chithra turned onto her side, facing him. The sheets rustled beneath her. Her eyes were already heavy—the exhaustion of two months, of the day, of everything—pulling her down into the dark.

"Stay close?" she asked, her voice barely a murmur.

Muthu hesitated only a second. Then he lay down beside her, not touching, just present. The heat of his body radiated across the small distance between them.

"Close enough?" he asked.

She didn't answer. Her breath had already slowed, her lips parted, her fingers curled loosely against the pillow. He watched her face relax by degrees—the furrow between her brows smoothing, the tight line of her jaw softening. In sleep, she looked younger. Vulnerable. Not broken, but not yet mended.

Muthu lay on his back, staring at the mirrored ceiling above. The sea continued its endless whisper through the window. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticked. A phone buzzed, once—Saroja checking in, probably—and he ignored it.

He turned his head toward the woman beside him.

She was still there. Still breathing. Still real.

For a long while, he didn't move. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached over and pulled the sheet higher—over her shoulder, up to her chin—before settling back into his pillow. His hand found the edge of the mattress between them, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the echo of her warmth.

"Goodnight, Chithra," he whispered.


Outside the window, the first bright star burned over the black water, patient and alone... Though chithra and muthu are happy in their room, i am sure people who are reading this update will have only one question in their mind...

WHY DID VIJAY KILL AARYAN AND NIRMALA???


To be continued....

[angelica]

No for now. The killing part can wait.
But I really enjoyed this chapter because, for the first time, the villain opened up his emotions with the person he wanted to break. For the first time, he wanted simply to be there rather than to act. For the first time, he consoled someone rather than just walking away from the situation. Two souls who are deprived of love and intimacy felt the warmth of each other. Let them enjoy these chapters of your story.
Good work.

[Umavictor32]

No for now. The killing part can wait.
But I really enjoyed this chapter because, for the first time, the villain opened up his emotions with the person he wanted to break. For the first time, he wanted simply to be there rather than to act. For the first time, he consoled someone rather than just walking away from the situation. Two souls who are deprived of love and intimacy felt the warmth of each other. Let them enjoy these chapters of your story.
Good work.

Thanks for your comments..
Muthu said he will kill vijay...**just said**

[angelica]

If I were in Muthu's shoes, I would have done the exact same thing to Vijay—probably far worse than just killing him. No matter whether your partner has cheated, your body is broken, you are bankrupt, or worse: a man's primal duty is the protection of his family. Instead, he pimped his wife and killed his own child, who was a totally innocent soul.
Civilians like Vijay have a wolf sleeping deep inside them; they only need a slight push to reveal their true colors. Muthu may be a womanizer with a villainous, murderous past, but he has core principles and never crossed them. He has given every lady he corrupted the essential thing they missed out on from their so-called husbands. That one missing piece is the reason all these women are drawn to him from the deepest corners of their souls.

[Umavictor32]

If I were in Muthu's shoes, I would have done the exact same thing to Vijay—probably far worse than just killing him. No matter whether your partner has cheated, your body is broken, you are bankrupt, or worse: a man's primal duty is the protection of his family. Instead, he pimped his wife and killed his own child, who was a totally innocent soul.
Civilians like Vijay have a wolf sleeping deep inside them; they only need a slight push to reveal their true colors. Muthu may be a womanizer with a villainous, murderous past, but he has core principles and never crossed them. He has given every lady he corrupted the essential thing they missed out on from their so-called husbands. That one missing piece is the reason all these women are drawn to him from the deepest corners of their souls.

Thanks for your comments

[RedDranzar]

I think Aryan saw his father and Nirmala having sex and confronted Vijay which may have resulted in a unwanted clash and his death. Having killed his son have driven Vijay mad in rage and his natural target for outburst will be Nirmala who caused the mishap indirectly.

[Umavictor32]

AUTHOR NOTE : 

Hi friends need your suggestion...

Do you really expect sex scenes for Dr. Sandhya and Saroja???
Because that scenes will be no way needed for the story... But if you really want it then i can add sex scenes...

But when u read the story u will very well understand that the sex scenes were added in a forced manner as there was no need for such scenes. 

SO NEED YOUR SUGGESTION TO MOVE FORWARD

[RedDranzar]

No don't add those.

[chrisgale159]

i want you to make muthu slave for chitra in the end

[Losliyafan]

The initial agreement is weekend sex and revenge Over. Where is this now going.

[aravindkkumar08]

Just twist a story mla triled to blackmailing his husband to tell lies. Or give mla some chance with chitra and others

[aravindkkumar08]

Sorry to say bro from recent episodes the images are not supported by the stories as the earlier one. Pl look into it