Misc. Erotica An Innocent Beauty

[Deepak.kapoor]

Meera's Frustration and Blame

Back in the confines of her home, Meera paced restlessly, her thoughts swirling with frustration and anger. The weight of the events that had unfolded pressed heavily on her chest, and she felt the need to vent her feelings. Still shaken from the ordeal, Riya sat quietly, her eyes downcast, understanding the storm brewing inside her sister-in-law.


“Riya, do you even realize what you’ve done?” Meera’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and disappointment. “This entire mess—everything that happened today—traces back to you and your foolishness!”


Riya looked up, confusion etched on her face. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything wrong...”


“Didn’t do anything wrong?” Meera snapped, cutting her off. “You were the one who got involved with Shankar! Your innocent little crush has spiraled into something dangerous. Did you ever think about the consequences? Did you think for a moment that it wouldn’t come back to haunt you?”


Riya flinched at the harshness in Meera’s tone. She had never seen this side of her sister-in-law before; the protective shield that usually protected her was now replaced by fierce anger. “I just... I thought I was in love,” Riya whispered, her voice barely audible.


“Love?” Meera scoffed, her frustration boiling over. “This isn’t a fairy tale, Riya! This is real life, and real life comes with consequences. Your naivety has put you in danger and drawn me into this mess with Vikram and Arjun. Did you think about that when you were sneaking around with Shankar?”


As Meera’s words hung heavy, Riya felt shame wash over her. Her feelings had blinded her, and now they were causing turmoil in Meera’s life, too.


“I trusted you to be cautious, to think about the repercussions,” Meera continued, pacing back and forth. “Now look where we are! We’re being blackmailed, and I’m forced to face those two just because you couldn’t see past your infatuation. Do you understand how serious this is?”


Riya bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t know it would lead to this. I never wanted to hurt you.”


Meera let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her long, disheveled hair. "That's the problem, Riya. You never knew! You never thought about what could happen, how dangerous people like them could be!" She took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she continued. "Do you know what they did to me today? Do you understand how much they humiliated me? My body... my dignity... everything I had pride in, they took away!"


Silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by Riya’s quiet sobs. Meera’s heart ached for her sister-in-law, but she knew tough love was necessary. The stakes were too high, and they needed to regain control over their lives before it was too late.


“Riya,” Meera finally said, her voice steady but gentle, “we need to devise a plan. We can’t let them control us like this. But you need to promise me—no more reckless decisions. We must handle this together, and I need you to be honest with me from now on. Can you do that?”


Riya nodded slowly, wiping her tears as she took a deep breath. “I promise, Meera. I’ll do better. I want to fix this.”


“Good. We’ll figure this out together,” Meera said, reassuringly touching Riya’s shoulder. She turned away, unable to look at Riya any longer. "Just go, Riya. I need to be alone."


Riya hesitated, guilt tearing at her soul, but eventually, she nodded and left, her quiet sobs fading down the hallway.


Once alone, Meera locked herself in the bathroom, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe through her pain. Her fingers shakily unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it off her shoulders. Then her hands went to the knot of her sari, unwrapping the fabric from around her waist until it slipped to the floor. She stood there, bare and vulnerable, as she faced the mirror.


The reflection staring back at her was one she no longer recognized.


Her proud, full breasts—once a symbol of her femininity and beauty—felt tainted. Her smooth, unblemished skin, once untouched by anyone but her husband, was now marked with sensations she never wanted to feel. She ran her hands over her arms, over her stomach, remembering the rough, unwanted touches from earlier, and she shuddered in disgust.
Her hands hesitated at her breasts, the memory of Arjun and Vikram’s hands roaming over them flashing through her mind. Her body had reacted to their touch in ways she couldn't explain, in ways that made her feel sick with shame. Why? she thought bitterly. Why did I feel anything?


Tears streamed down her cheeks, her lips trembling as she whispered to herself, "How could you betray me like this?" She clenched her fists, pressing them against the cold sink. "How could my own body... react to them?"


Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She felt trapped, torn between disgust and a confusing, terrible awareness of the sensations that had awakened inside her. She had always been a woman in control—dignified, strong, untouchable. And now, that illusion had been shattered.


She stepped back, looking at herself entirely. Her curvy figure, her flawless skin—she had always taken pride in how beautiful she was, how much Aarav adored her. But now, she felt like a stranger in her skin.


Her fingers trembled as they brushed over her stomach, remembering Vikram’s touch, his breath against her. She let out a strangled sob, gripping the edge of the counter for support. The thought of what had happened, how she had been forced to respond, burned through her like fire.


She had cried out—she had moaned. Not because she wanted to but because her body had betrayed her.


She wanted to scrub herself clean and erase every touch and moment of weakness, but she knew nothing would take it away. No matter how hard she tried, those sensations and memories were now imprinted on her forever.


She wept openly now, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I’m so sorry, Aarav..." she whispered through her sobs, thinking of her husband. The thought of him made the pain even worse. What would he think if he ever found out what had happened today? Would he still love her? Would he still look at her the same way?


And worst of all—how could she ever look at herself the same way again?