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

[prady12191]

The satisfaction coiled in Vishnu's chest like a well-fed snake, lazy and content yet still dangerous. Three days had passed since Professor Devika had begun wearing her saree slightly lower, and each glimpse of her navel—that perfect dimple of flesh when she reached for the top of the whiteboard or bent to retrieve a fallen marker—sent electricity racing through his veins. Beside him on the college steps, Pathan's silver tooth caught the morning sun as he grinned, both of them tracking Devika's progress across the courtyard, the wind occasionally pressing the silk of her teal saree against her curves, revealing the subtle contours they had come to obsess over.



"There she goes," Pathan murmured, eyes fixed on Devika's retreating form. "Did you see how the wind caught her pallu just now? For a second, right there..." He made a circular motion with his finger, indicating the spot on his own abdomen.



Vishnu nodded, swallowing hard. "I saw."



"She's getting comfortable with it," Pathan said, his voice carrying the silky confidence that had seduced numerous first-year girls. "Sharada did better than I expected. Making her think it's fashionable, more flattering to her figure—genius."



"She still adjusts it, though." Vishnu watched as Devika disappeared into the Science building. "Every time it slips, she fixes it right away. Like she's ashamed."



Pathan chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "That's the best part. The conflict. You can see it in her eyes—part of her likes the attention, but she's fighting it." He pulled out his silver paan case, extracting a carefully folded betel leaf. "Those are the ones who are most fun when they finally break."



Vishnu felt the familiar twist in his gut—part guilt, part arousal—that had become his constant companion since they'd begun this game. He accepted the paan Pathan offered, the sharp taste flooding his mouth with bitter sweetness.



Their conversation paused as a junior lecturer approached, clutching a stack of papers. The man was thin and nervous, perpetually hunched as if expecting a blow. He stopped several paces from them, clearly reluctant to come closer.



"The notice," he said, holding out a sheet. "For all third-year students. Practical assignments begin next week."



Pathan took the paper with exaggerated slowness, enjoying the lecturer's discomfort. "What's this about?"



"Biology practicals. One teacher assigned to two students for the semester project. Very important for final grades." The lecturer backed away as soon as Pathan had the paper, eager to escape their presence.



Vishnu leaned over to read the notice, the paan juice staining his lips red. "Dedicated teachers for practical training... pairs of students... assigned by department head..." His voice trailed off as the implications dawned on him.



Pathan's eyes widened, then narrowed with predatory focus. "One teacher. Two students." He folded the notice carefully, tucking it into his pocket. "Dedicated time alone with our favorite professor."



"If we can get assigned to her," Vishnu cautioned.



"When," Pathan corrected. "Not if. When." He stood, straightening his designer shirt with a practiced gesture. "Time to pay our friend Seenu a visit."



"You think he'll do it? Assign us to her?"



Pathan's smile was all teeth, the silver incisor gleaming. "He doesn't have a choice. Not with what his father owes my family. And what we know about his little... viewing habits."



They made their way across campus, students instinctively parting before them like water around stones. The administrative building stood three stories tall, its colonial architecture incongruous against the more modern structures surrounding it. The corridor to the department offices smelled of chalk dust and stale coffee, the fluorescent lights casting everyone in a sickly pallor.



Seenu's office door was slightly ajar, the frosted glass panel displaying his name and title in peeling gold letters. From inside came the sound of papers being shuffled and a chair creaking under weight. Pathan knocked once, perfunctorily, then pushed the door open without waiting for a response.



Professor Krishnamurthy looked up, his expression shifting from irritation to barely concealed fear as he recognized his visitors. The paan stain at the corner of his mouth seemed fresher than usual, a smear of crimson against his sallow skin.



"Ah, Mr. Khan, Mr. Patil." His voice strained for authority but achieved only a weak imitation. "I'm rather busy with the practical assignments now, so perhaps—"



"That's exactly why we're here, sir." Pathan closed the door behind them, the soft click somehow menacing. "The practical assignments."



Vishnu moved to the window, casually drawing the blinds halfway, dimming the already muted light. The gesture wasn't lost on Seenu, whose fingers began to tap nervously on his desktop.



"The assignments are being made based on academic performance and faculty availability," Seenu said, reaching for a folder as if to prove his point. "The system is quite structured, I'm afraid."



Pathan approached the desk, placing his palms flat on its surface and leaning forward. "Systems can be flexible, Professor. Especially for students with... special circumstances."



"I don't understand what you're suggesting," Seenu replied, though his darting eyes betrayed his understanding perfectly.



"We want Professor Menon," Vishnu said bluntly, turning from the window. "As our practical instructor."



Seenu's face paled beneath its perpetual sheen of sweat. "That's... that's not possible. Dr. Nair is already being assigned to—"



"Reassign them," Pathan interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "It's a simple administrative adjustment. Nothing worth losing sleep over."



"But the schedules are almost finalized. And she's new, still adjusting to our system. I can't just—"



"How's your father, Professor?" Vishnu cut in, his tone conversational but loaded with meaning. "Still having trouble with those loan payments to Pathan's family's finance company?"



The blood drained completely from Seenu's face. "That's a private matter."



"Nothing's private anymore, sir," Pathan said, straightening up. "Not your father's debts. Not your little sessions in the security office, watching the CCTV feeds from outside the women's washroom." He smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. "We have a mutual friend in campus security. He tells us interesting things."



Seenu's mouth opened and closed silently, like a fish pulled suddenly from water. His hand trembled as he reached for his cup of tea, sloshing the lukewarm liquid onto his papers.



"I could arrange for you to have Chemistry practical with Professor Joshi," he offered weakly. "He's excellent, very knowledgeable—"



"We don't want Professor Joshi," Vishnu said, circling the desk until he stood directly behind Seenu's chair. He placed his hands on the older man's shoulders, feeling him flinch beneath the touch. "We want Professor Menon. No one else."



"She's... conservative," Seenu protested, his voice barely above a whisper. "Very traditional. If she suspects any... impropriety..."



Pathan laughed, the sound echoing harshly in the small office. "Impropriety? We're model students, sir. We just want to learn." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Besides, I think you'd rather worry about her discovering your... viewing habits than any imagined impropriety on our part."



Seenu's shoulders slumped in defeat. The three men remained frozen in tableau for several heartbeats—Vishnu standing behind the chair, hands still resting on Seenu's shoulders; Pathan leaning across the desk, his face inches from the professor's; Seenu caught between them, diminished and cornered.



"I'll do it," he finally said. "I'll assign her to you. But please..." His voice cracked slightly. "She's a decent woman. Don't..."



"Don't what, Professor?" Pathan's voice was silky. "We just want to learn biology from her. That's all. Nothing against her wishes."



"Nothing against her wishes," Vishnu echoed, finally removing his hands from Seenu's shoulders. The professor visibly relaxed, though his eyes remained wary.



"Tomorrow morning," Pathan said, moving toward the door. "Make the announcement in the lab. All students present. We want to see her face when she finds out."



Seenu nodded, defeated. "Tomorrow morning."



As they left the office, Vishnu felt that familiar twist in his gut again—the guilt that never quite disappeared, always simmering beneath the excitement and anticipation. But when Pathan clapped him on the shoulder, grinning with triumph, the feeling receded, buried beneath the thrill of their victory.



"Tomorrow," Pathan said, "we begin the real game."



---



The biology laboratory hummed with nervous energy the following morning. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air and glinting off the stainless steel surfaces of microscopes and dissection trays. Students clustered in small groups, voices pitched low in speculation about the practical assignments. At the front of the room, the faculty members stood in a loose semicircle, their expressions ranging from boredom to mild interest as Seenu shuffled papers at the demonstration table.



Devika stood slightly apart from her colleagues, her posture perfectly upright, her maroon saree dbangd impeccably. After several days of wearing it in the lower style Sharada had suggested, she had reverted to her original, more conservative dbang—high on the waist, pallu securely covering her torso. The change had not gone unnoticed by Vishnu and Pathan, who leaned against the back wall, disappointment evident in their postures.



"Attention, please," Seenu called, his voice stronger than it had been in his office but still carrying an undercurrent of strain. "We will now announce the practical assignments for this semester. Each pair of students will be assigned to one faculty member for dedicated instruction and guidance."



He began reading from his list, matching students to teachers with mechanical efficiency. Each announcement was met with murmurs and occasional groans from the students affected. The faculty remained impassive, accustomed to the process.



"Vishnu Patil and Pathan Khan," Seenu called, his voice hitching slightly. "You will be assigned to Dr. Devika Nair for advanced cellular biology practicals."



A ripple of surprised whispers spread through the room. Vishnu watched Devika's reaction carefully. Her expression remained neutral, but he caught the slight stiffening of her shoulders, the almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes. She knew their reputation, had experienced their attention firsthand. This assignment was clearly unwelcome news.



"Dr. Nair, please meet with your students to discuss scheduling," Seenu continued, not meeting her gaze. "Mr. Patil, Mr. Khan, please step forward."



Vishnu and Pathan pushed off from the wall, moving through the crowd of students with deliberate slowness. They stopped before Devika, close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to maintain eye contact.



"Professor," Pathan said, his voice a study in false respect. "We look forward to learning from you."



Devika's gaze was cool, assessing. "I expect punctuality and preparation, Mr. Khan. This is not a social arrangement."



"Of course not," Vishnu added, his tone mimicking Pathan's deference. "We're very serious about... biology."



Something flickered in Devika's eyes—recognition of the subtle emphasis, perhaps, or awareness of the game being played—but her expression remained professional. "We'll begin tomorrow afternoon. Three o'clock. Don't be late."



Seenu cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention back to the front. "These assignments are final and will remain in place until the end of the semester. No changes will be permitted except in cases of extreme emergency." His eyes skittered away from Devika's searching gaze. "That is all for today. Faculty, please ensure your students understand the project requirements before our next session."



The crowd began to disperse, students and teachers forming small clusters to discuss schedules and expectations. Devika turned away from Vishnu and Pathan without another word, moving purposefully toward Seenu, who was hastily gathering his papers as if preparing for a quick escape.



"This is going better than I expected," Pathan murmured, watching her go. "Did you see her face? She knows exactly what's happening."



Vishnu nodded, though he wasn't sure if Pathan's assessment was accurate. Devika's reaction had been controlled, difficult to read. Was it fear? Resignation? Or something else entirely—something that might prove dangerous to their plans?



They left the laboratory, lingering in the corridor just long enough to see Devika approach Seenu, her posture rigid with what appeared to be suppressed anger. The department head's response was inaudible but accompanied by placating gestures, his hands raised as if in surrender.



"She's going to his office," Vishnu observed as the two faculty members exited the lab. "Probably to complain."



Pathan's smile was unconcerned. "Let her. Seenu knows which side his bread is buttered on."



---



"This is completely unacceptable." Devika's voice was controlled but vibrating with tension as she stood before Seenu's desk. She had followed him directly from the laboratory, unwilling to let the matter rest even overnight. "You've assigned me the two most problematic students in the department."



Seenu sank into his chair, looking older and more worn than he had just an hour before. "They specifically requested you, Dr. Nair. They admire your teaching methods."



"They admire nothing about my teaching," Devika replied flatly. "They spend each class staring at my... at me, not at the material. Surely you've noticed their behavior."



"Boys will be boys," Seenu offered weakly, then flinched at Devika's expression. "What I mean is, young men sometimes lack... focus. They need guidance, structure."



"They need discipline and boundaries, which I doubt I can provide in a one-to-two teaching scenario." Devika placed her palms on the desk, unconsciously mirroring Pathan's stance from the day before. "Reassign them. Please."



Seenu's eyes darted around the room, landing anywhere but on Devika's face. "I can't. The assignments are final, as I announced."



"Why?" Devika pressed. "What's so special about these two that they can't be reassigned?"



Something in Seenu seemed to collapse inward, a structure giving way under too much pressure. He looked up at her, his expression suddenly naked with a mixture of fear and resignation.



"They need someone like you," he said, his voice soft. "Someone... decent. Moral. Their parents are wealthy but absent. Too busy with business to raise their sons properly. The boys have had every material advantage but no real guidance." He leaned forward, finding a narrative that might convince her. "You could be a positive influence, Dr. Nair. Show them there's more to life than money and... and physical pleasures."



Devika's expression softened slightly, though suspicion still lingered in her eyes. "Are you saying I should view this as some sort of... redemptive opportunity?"



"Precisely," Seenu seized on this, relief evident in his voice. "A chance to make a real difference in their lives. To be more than just a teacher—a mentor, a guide."



"I don't know..." Devika's resolve was weakening, he could see it. The appeal to her sense of duty, her natural empathy, was working.



"Give it a chance," Seenu urged. "Just a few sessions. If it becomes truly untenable, we can revisit the arrangement." This was a lie, he knew—Pathan and Vishnu would never allow a reassignment—but it served its purpose.



Devika straightened, adjusting her pallu with a gesture that had become habitual. "Very well. I'll try. But I want it on record that I objected to this assignment."



"Of course, of course," Seenu nodded eagerly. "I appreciate your professionalism, Dr. Nair. Truly."



As she turned to leave, Seenu felt a wave of shame wash over him. He had manipulated her, used her own goodness against her. The weight of it settled in his chest, an uncomfortable heat that he recognized as guilt.



But what choice did he have? The alternative—exposure, humiliation, financial ruin for his family—was unthinkable.



He watched her leave, her posture still perfectly straight, her dignity intact despite everything. How long would that last, he wondered, under the focused attention of Vishnu and Pathan? How long before they broke through her composure, as they had broken through his?



The thought should have troubled him more than it did. Instead, beneath the guilt, he felt a flicker of something darker—anticipation. Tomorrow at three o'clock, they would be alone with her in the laboratory. And whatever happened, he would be partly responsible.



He reached for his paan case, needing the familiar ritual to steady his nerves. Outside his window, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus, marking the slow but inevitable passage of time toward tomorrow.