25-04-2025, 10:27 PM
A Day of Surrender
Sunday morning, unwanted sunlight seeped through Vanitha’s bedroom window, grazing her face. Waking, the house’s silence weighed on her heart—still in yesterday’s pale blue saree, she froze in fear of her situation. Rising slowly, she brushed her teeth and entered the bathroom, showering long under cold water, but it brought no relief. Turning off the water, she faced the full-length mirror, her wet body reflected.
Her form, with gentle curves, radiated natural beauty—her stomach, slightly flat and soft, held a small, round navel at its center. Her waist, subtly curved, lent grace to her tall frame. Her shoulders sloped softly, her long arms ending in slender fingers. Yet, seeing this beauty, Vanitha felt only pity—the thought that her body would become part of a deal today shook her. Her eyes met her reflection, but her mind sank in shame and fear.
Leaving the bathroom, she chose the sheer black saree Mani had requested, pairing it with a black blouse—dbanging it low below her navel as he’d asked. The soft fabric clung to her, but her heart thudded heavily. In the kitchen, she prepared a simple meal—rice, dal, and vegetable curry—eating slowly, lost in thought. Packing the leftovers in a tiffin box, she drove to the quarters, hands gripping the steering wheel, mind drowned in fear and worry.
At the quarters, Mani stood alone at the entrance—his face glowed with unusual brightness and excitement. He greeted her with a smile.
Mani: "Welcome, madam!"
Vanitha nodded slightly, avoiding his gaze, and entered—Mani followed, softly closing the main door. The sound echoed, her heart racing. Standing in the room’s center, silent, her eyes fixed on the floor, her breath heavy. Mani approached, his voice caring yet eager.
Mani: "Madam, did you eat breakfast?"
Vanitha nodded slowly, replying softly.
Vanitha: "Yes, Mani."
She felt his gaze—his eyes roamed her body, lingering on her waist and navel. The faint scent of Cuticura powder from him stirred fear in her. Mani’s voice turned hoarse, faltering.
Mani: "Madam… you look even more beautiful in this saree… like that day… wow, simply superb, madam."
His eyes wandered her form, a fierce desire in his stare. The air-conditioned room felt like a desert to Vanitha—the tension choked her. Mani, hesitating, spoke in a stammering voice.
Mani: "Alright, madam… can we… can we go to the bedroom now? I can’t hold on anymore, madam. I didn’t sleep a bit thinking of you. Please, can we go?"
Urgency and hesitation mixed in his voice. Vanitha took a deep breath, steeling herself, and nodded slowly—her eyes on the floor, lips trembling. Mani, excited, said softly.
Mani: "Alright, madam! Alright, madam!"
Like escorting a bride, he gently held her shoulders, guiding her toward the bedroom. Vanitha flinched at his touch—her feet moved slowly, but her mind sank in darkness. The bedroom door loomed ahead, her heart pounding in a heavy rhythm.
Sunday morning, unwanted sunlight seeped through Vanitha’s bedroom window, grazing her face. Waking, the house’s silence weighed on her heart—still in yesterday’s pale blue saree, she froze in fear of her situation. Rising slowly, she brushed her teeth and entered the bathroom, showering long under cold water, but it brought no relief. Turning off the water, she faced the full-length mirror, her wet body reflected.
Her form, with gentle curves, radiated natural beauty—her stomach, slightly flat and soft, held a small, round navel at its center. Her waist, subtly curved, lent grace to her tall frame. Her shoulders sloped softly, her long arms ending in slender fingers. Yet, seeing this beauty, Vanitha felt only pity—the thought that her body would become part of a deal today shook her. Her eyes met her reflection, but her mind sank in shame and fear.
Leaving the bathroom, she chose the sheer black saree Mani had requested, pairing it with a black blouse—dbanging it low below her navel as he’d asked. The soft fabric clung to her, but her heart thudded heavily. In the kitchen, she prepared a simple meal—rice, dal, and vegetable curry—eating slowly, lost in thought. Packing the leftovers in a tiffin box, she drove to the quarters, hands gripping the steering wheel, mind drowned in fear and worry.
At the quarters, Mani stood alone at the entrance—his face glowed with unusual brightness and excitement. He greeted her with a smile.
Mani: "Welcome, madam!"
Vanitha nodded slightly, avoiding his gaze, and entered—Mani followed, softly closing the main door. The sound echoed, her heart racing. Standing in the room’s center, silent, her eyes fixed on the floor, her breath heavy. Mani approached, his voice caring yet eager.
Mani: "Madam, did you eat breakfast?"
Vanitha nodded slowly, replying softly.
Vanitha: "Yes, Mani."
She felt his gaze—his eyes roamed her body, lingering on her waist and navel. The faint scent of Cuticura powder from him stirred fear in her. Mani’s voice turned hoarse, faltering.
Mani: "Madam… you look even more beautiful in this saree… like that day… wow, simply superb, madam."
His eyes wandered her form, a fierce desire in his stare. The air-conditioned room felt like a desert to Vanitha—the tension choked her. Mani, hesitating, spoke in a stammering voice.
Mani: "Alright, madam… can we… can we go to the bedroom now? I can’t hold on anymore, madam. I didn’t sleep a bit thinking of you. Please, can we go?"
Urgency and hesitation mixed in his voice. Vanitha took a deep breath, steeling herself, and nodded slowly—her eyes on the floor, lips trembling. Mani, excited, said softly.
Mani: "Alright, madam! Alright, madam!"
Like escorting a bride, he gently held her shoulders, guiding her toward the bedroom. Vanitha flinched at his touch—her feet moved slowly, but her mind sank in darkness. The bedroom door loomed ahead, her heart pounding in a heavy rhythm.
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