11-10-2025, 11:41 PM
Title: The Open Door Policy
Characters:
Scene 3
(The scene opens in the hallway, an exact continuation. Inside, Sagar is poised over Myra's back. Outside, Kishore has just relieved himself, his body tensing.)
Myra: (from inside) Do it now, Sagar! Now!
Lata: (whispering, horrified) You did it. Oh, god, you made a mess on the floor!
Kishore: Shhh! I couldn't control myself....
(He's still holding his penis, his hand frozen. He is breathing in ragged gasps. Inside the room, Sagar lets out a final, deep groan.)
Myra: (sighing with pleasure) Ah... perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Sagar: (laughing softly) You are an insatiable woman, Myra.
Myra: I know. And I'm also terribly thirsty. All this activity...
(Myra's voice suddenly becomes louder, clearer, directed not at Sagar but at the hallway.)
Myra: Lata? Is that you I hear shuffling about in the hallway?
(Kishore and Lata freeze, their blood turning to ice.)
Kishore: (whispering frantically) She knows. She heard us. She knows we are here.
Lata: (her voice trembling) She said my name. What do we do?
Kishore: (fumbling with his pants) Oh god, oh god, we are fired. We are finished.
Myra: (calling out again, a playful, commanding tone in her voice) Lata, darling, be a dear and fetch us two glasses of cold water, would you? Your Sahib and I have worked up quite a thirst.
Lata: She... she wants me to bring water. Now?
Kishore: (finally gets his pants buttoned) It's a trap. She wants to see our faces. She wants to see us shamed.
Lata: What do I do? I can't just... walk in there. They are... they are naked!
Kishore: You have to! If you don't go, she will know for sure we were spying.
Lata: But you... your...
Kishore: I am going. Downstairs. Now. You have to do this, Lata.
Lata: No! Don't leave me here!
Kishore: Straighten your dupatta. Fix your hair. Act normal. Just act normal! Go!
(He gives her a terrified look and practically runs, silent as a mouse, back towards the staircase.)
Lata: Kishore!
(He's gone. She is alone in the hallway. The only sound is the soft murmur of Myra and Sagar talking inside the room.)
Myra: (her voice laced with amusement) I wonder what's keeping her? Perhaps she's shy.
(Lata stands frozen for a moment, her heart hammering against her ribs. She smooths her clothes, takes a deep, shaky breath, and forces her feet to move towards the kitchen.)
(A minute later, she returns, a tray with two glasses of chilled water in her trembling hands. She stops just outside the open door.)
Lata: (her voice is a tiny, weak squeak) Madam?
Myra: Ah, there you are. Don't just stand there in the hall, dear. Come in.
(Lata standing at the threshold of the master bedroom, holding a tray with two glasses of water. The tray is visibly trembling. Inside, Myra is lounging back against a pile of pillows on the bed, a silk sheet dbangd loosely across her lap and legs, leaving her breasts completely exposed. Sagar is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his trousers, his bare chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat.)
Myra: Well? Don't be shy. Come in, come in. The glasses are getting heavy, I'm sure.
Lata: (taking a hesitant step inside, her eyes fixed on the floor) Yes, Madam.
Sagar: Be careful you don't trip, Lata.
Lata: (her voice barely a whisper) Yes, Sahib.
Myra: You can put the tray right here, on the bedside table. You'll have to come a little closer.
(Lata inches forward, her body stiff with fear. She carefully places the tray on the small table next to Myra, trying desperately not to look at her mistress's naked torso or the tangled, wet sheets.)
Myra: Thank you, dear. You're a good girl. Now, look at me.
(Lata flinches but slowly, fearfully, raises her eyes to meet Myra's.)
Myra: Goodness, you look so flushed. Are you feeling alright? You're not coming down with a fever, are you?
Lata: No, Madam. I am... I am fine.
Sagar: She looks frightened, Myra. Like a little bird that has fallen from its nest.
Myra: Nonsense. There's nothing to be frightened of in here, is there? It's just us. Tell me, Lata... you came up the stairs very quickly. You must have been nearby.
Lata: I... I was just finishing my work in the pantry, Madam.
Myra: The pantry? All the way downstairs? That's funny. I could have sworn I heard noises just outside our door a few minutes ago. A lot of... shuffling. Whispering, even. Did you hear anything?
Lata: (swallowing hard, her throat suddenly dry) No, Madam. The house is very quiet.
Myra: Is it? Quiet? That's very strange. Because I don't think we were being very quiet at all. Were we, Sagar?
Sagar: (a low chuckle) No, my love. I think we made quite a bit of noise.
Myra: (her eyes sparkling with mischief as she stares directly at Lata) So tell me the truth, Lata. You were out there with Kishore, weren't you? Enjoying the show?
Characters:
- Myra: The puppeteer.
- Sagar: Her willing accomplice.
- Kishore: The servant on the edge.
- Lata: His panicked observer.
Scene 3
(The scene opens in the hallway, an exact continuation. Inside, Sagar is poised over Myra's back. Outside, Kishore has just relieved himself, his body tensing.)
Myra: (from inside) Do it now, Sagar! Now!
Lata: (whispering, horrified) You did it. Oh, god, you made a mess on the floor!
Kishore: Shhh! I couldn't control myself....
(He's still holding his penis, his hand frozen. He is breathing in ragged gasps. Inside the room, Sagar lets out a final, deep groan.)
Myra: (sighing with pleasure) Ah... perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Sagar: (laughing softly) You are an insatiable woman, Myra.
Myra: I know. And I'm also terribly thirsty. All this activity...
(Myra's voice suddenly becomes louder, clearer, directed not at Sagar but at the hallway.)
Myra: Lata? Is that you I hear shuffling about in the hallway?
(Kishore and Lata freeze, their blood turning to ice.)
Kishore: (whispering frantically) She knows. She heard us. She knows we are here.
Lata: (her voice trembling) She said my name. What do we do?
Kishore: (fumbling with his pants) Oh god, oh god, we are fired. We are finished.
Myra: (calling out again, a playful, commanding tone in her voice) Lata, darling, be a dear and fetch us two glasses of cold water, would you? Your Sahib and I have worked up quite a thirst.
Lata: She... she wants me to bring water. Now?
Kishore: (finally gets his pants buttoned) It's a trap. She wants to see our faces. She wants to see us shamed.
Lata: What do I do? I can't just... walk in there. They are... they are naked!
Kishore: You have to! If you don't go, she will know for sure we were spying.
Lata: But you... your...
Kishore: I am going. Downstairs. Now. You have to do this, Lata.
Lata: No! Don't leave me here!
Kishore: Straighten your dupatta. Fix your hair. Act normal. Just act normal! Go!
(He gives her a terrified look and practically runs, silent as a mouse, back towards the staircase.)
Lata: Kishore!
(He's gone. She is alone in the hallway. The only sound is the soft murmur of Myra and Sagar talking inside the room.)
Myra: (her voice laced with amusement) I wonder what's keeping her? Perhaps she's shy.
(Lata stands frozen for a moment, her heart hammering against her ribs. She smooths her clothes, takes a deep, shaky breath, and forces her feet to move towards the kitchen.)
(A minute later, she returns, a tray with two glasses of chilled water in her trembling hands. She stops just outside the open door.)
Lata: (her voice is a tiny, weak squeak) Madam?
Myra: Ah, there you are. Don't just stand there in the hall, dear. Come in.
(Lata standing at the threshold of the master bedroom, holding a tray with two glasses of water. The tray is visibly trembling. Inside, Myra is lounging back against a pile of pillows on the bed, a silk sheet dbangd loosely across her lap and legs, leaving her breasts completely exposed. Sagar is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his trousers, his bare chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat.)
Myra: Well? Don't be shy. Come in, come in. The glasses are getting heavy, I'm sure.
Lata: (taking a hesitant step inside, her eyes fixed on the floor) Yes, Madam.
Sagar: Be careful you don't trip, Lata.
Lata: (her voice barely a whisper) Yes, Sahib.
Myra: You can put the tray right here, on the bedside table. You'll have to come a little closer.
(Lata inches forward, her body stiff with fear. She carefully places the tray on the small table next to Myra, trying desperately not to look at her mistress's naked torso or the tangled, wet sheets.)
Myra: Thank you, dear. You're a good girl. Now, look at me.
(Lata flinches but slowly, fearfully, raises her eyes to meet Myra's.)
Myra: Goodness, you look so flushed. Are you feeling alright? You're not coming down with a fever, are you?
Lata: No, Madam. I am... I am fine.
Sagar: She looks frightened, Myra. Like a little bird that has fallen from its nest.
Myra: Nonsense. There's nothing to be frightened of in here, is there? It's just us. Tell me, Lata... you came up the stairs very quickly. You must have been nearby.
Lata: I... I was just finishing my work in the pantry, Madam.
Myra: The pantry? All the way downstairs? That's funny. I could have sworn I heard noises just outside our door a few minutes ago. A lot of... shuffling. Whispering, even. Did you hear anything?
Lata: (swallowing hard, her throat suddenly dry) No, Madam. The house is very quiet.
Myra: Is it? Quiet? That's very strange. Because I don't think we were being very quiet at all. Were we, Sagar?
Sagar: (a low chuckle) No, my love. I think we made quite a bit of noise.
Myra: (her eyes sparkling with mischief as she stares directly at Lata) So tell me the truth, Lata. You were out there with Kishore, weren't you? Enjoying the show?
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)