27-10-2025, 06:50 PM
After Devika left, Seenu stared at the closed door for several seconds, his breathing uneven. The scent of her jasmine perfume still lingered in the air. With trembling fingers, he locked his office door and returned to his desk, where he quickly opened his laptop.
He clicked on a minimized window—security footage from the boys' restroom. The black and white video showed Vishnu pulling at Devika's saree, exposing her waist. Seenu's eyes darkened as he watched Devika's initial protest fade into acquiescence. His hands moved beneath the desk as he watched Vishnu's fingers trace her navel, the Kerala woman's face transforming from reluctance to something else entirely.
"So this is what you've been doing with your students," he whispered to the screen, jerking rhythmically as Vishnu's mouth moved toward Devika's exposed skin.
The practical lab hummed with fluorescent lights and the soft bubbling of chemical solutions. Devika entered with her notes clutched tightly against her chest, a shield against what awaited her. She paused at the doorway—Pathan and Vishnu were already there, arranging microscopes at separate tables.
"Good afternoon, madam," Vishnu called with a casual smile that betrayed nothing of their encounter in the boys' toilet.
Pathan merely nodded, his eyes tracing the carefully wrapped pleats of her saree. Devika felt heat rise to her face, memories of his lips pressed against hers in this very lab flooding back unbidden.
"Today we're examining bacterial cultures," she announced, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. "Please prepare your slides according to page 83."
She moved through the lab, placing her notes on the desk, keeping her movements deliberately professional. How could she face these boys after what had happened? Her fingers trembled slightly as she arranged the specimen cultures.
When Vishnu announced he needed to collect additional materials from the storage room, Devika felt a momentary relief. She bent over a microscope, adjusting the focus, trying to lose herself in the familiar task.
She didn't hear Pathan approach until his chest pressed against her back, his arms sliding around her to place his hands over hers on the microscope. His breath was warm against her neck.
"What are you—" she began, freezing in place.
"Just helping you check the component, madam," he whispered, his body molding perfectly against her curved form. "Don't worry, Vishnu went to pick up materials."
Devika tried to stand upright, but Pathan maintained his position, his arms creating a cage around her. The heat of his body seeped through her thin cotton saree.
"Move back, Pathan," she hissed, finally finding her voice. "This is completely inappropriate."
"Please, madam. Just stay like this for a moment," he pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Remember our kiss in this lab? I can't stop thinking about it."
"That wasn't me," Devika said, her voice shaking. "You kissed me. I just... forgot myself."
"Maybe," he conceded, "but you kissed me back. I felt it. I can't forget the taste of your lips."
Devika could feel something hard pressing against her from behind, and realized with horror that Pathan was becoming aroused. Worse still, he began to subtly move his hips, creating a gentle pressure against her.
"Stop this immediately," she whispered harshly, horrified at what was happening in the middle of the college laboratory. "I am your professor."
"I know," he breathed into her ear. "That's what makes it so exciting."
His hands slid from the microscope to her waist, fingers splaying across her midriff. "Yesterday I watched a movie where the hero tasted the heroine... just like how we kissed in the lab."
"Pathan, you need to stop. Vishnu might return any moment."
His grip tightened slightly. "So you're worried about getting caught, not about what I'm doing?" A note of triumph entered his voice. "Don't worry, Vishnu will take time. I made sure of it."
Devika felt trapped between the laboratory bench and Pathan's body, her mind racing with conflicting emotions—fear, outrage, and something else she couldn't name.
"Before I go," he whispered, "I need just one more kiss."
Before she could react, Pathan turned her head with gentle pressure and captured her lips with his. The familiar taste of paan invaded her senses as he gave her quick, eager sucks on her upper and lower lips. For a heartbeat, Devika found herself responding, her lips moving against his—then reality crashed back.
She pulled away just as footsteps sounded in the corridor. Pathan stepped back quickly, moving to his workstation with practiced casualness. When Vishnu entered with a box of slides, Devika was still standing by the microscope, her fingers pressed against her tingling lips, shock written across her face.
"Found them, madam," Vishnu announced, glancing between her and Pathan with shrewd eyes. "Is everything okay?"
Devika smoothed her saree with trembling hands. "Yes, just... continue with your work. I need to check something in my notes."
As she retreated to her desk, Devika caught Pathan's subtle smile of satisfaction. Her world had tilted on its axis, and she wasn't sure how to right it again. The taste of paan lingered on her lips, and the imprint of his body against hers seemed burned into her skin.
What terrified her most wasn't what had happened—but that some small, secret part of her had responded to his touch.
In the days that followed, something shifted in the delicate power balance between Devika and her two persistent students. What had begun as isolated incidents morphed into a dangerous daily ritual, with both young men growing increasingly emboldened.
The morning after the toilet encounter, Pathan spotted Devika entering the staffroom. While other professors chatted nearby, he caught her eye from across the room and brazenly puckered his lips, blowing a silent kiss. Devika froze, her eyes darting around to see if anyone noticed. When she glared at him in warning, he merely smiled, his eyebrows rising in innocent question as if asking her to respond in kind.
"Good morning, madam," he called out loudly, making other faculty members turn. "Hope you're feeling well today."
Beneath his innocent greeting, his lips formed the words "I miss your taste" where only she could see. Devika hurriedly looked away, her hands trembling as she arranged her notes.
Later that day, while passing her in a crowded corridor between classes, Pathan deliberately brushed against her. In the momentary contact, he pressed his saliva-coated finger against her lips, rubbing it across them before disappearing into the crowd.
Devika stood shocked, the taste of his saliva lingering on her lips, mingling with the paan he habitually chewed. She wiped her mouth furiously, but the violation had already occurred—in plain sight, with students and faculty moving around them.
Vishnu employed different tactics. During her lecture, he would stare unblinkingly at her waist, his eyes tracing the outline of her navel beneath her saree. When she caught him looking, he would form a circle with his finger and thumb, then slowly insert his index finger from his other hand through the hole—a crude mimicry of his actions in the toilet.
Once, while submitting an assignment, he whispered, "I can still feel how warm it was inside, madam," his eyes fixed on her midriff.
By Thursday, Devika felt besieged from all sides. In the cafeteria, she watched Pathan enter with his friends. Their eyes met, and before she could look away, he ran his tongue slowly across his lips. The gesture was so blatant that several students turned to see what had caught his attention.
Instead of shrinking away, something snapped inside Devika. If they were determined to play this game, perhaps she should take control of the rules.
The next time Pathan blew her a virtual kiss from across the staffroom, she surprised him by subtly puckering her lips in return, then offering a seductive smile that made him nearly drop his books. His shock was evident—he had expected resistance, not reciprocation.
During a practical session where Vishnu kept making suggestive gestures about her navel, Devika deliberately raised her arms to reach for equipment on a high shelf, knowing her saree would rise slightly above her waist. She locked eyes with him as she did so, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
On Friday, when Pathan lingered after class with another of his virtual kisses, Devika took her index finger and slowly put it into her mouth, sucking it gently while maintaining eye contact. His eyes widened, and for once, he was the one who looked away first, visibly affected by her bold response.
"What's wrong, Pathan?" she asked innocently. "You seem distracted today."
"N-nothing, madam," he stammered, his confident facade crumbling.
That afternoon in the cafeteria, she spotted Vishnu watching her from a distance. With deliberate slowness, she unwrapped a lollipop, placed it between her lips, and began to suck it methodically, her eyes never leaving his. She swirled her tongue around the candy, taking her time, making a performance of it. Vishnu sat transfixed, unable to move or look away.
Walking across campus afterward, she passed Pathan and his friends. She adjusted her saree, tucking it slightly lower on her waist, exposing more skin than usual. She placed her hand on her bare hip in a casual gesture that she knew would catch his attention.
But beneath these calculated moves, anger simmered. Each provocative response was designed not to encourage but to unsettle—to turn their game back on them. They had expected a frightened teacher, not a woman who would challenge their advances.
Devika closed her apartment door behind her, leaning against it as if to barricade herself from the world outside. The day's events swirled in her mind like a toxic whirlpool, pulling her deeper into confusion and self-loathing. She dragged herself to the sofa and collapsed, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.
What had she become?
Three months ago, she'd arrived in Pune as a respected biology teacher with clear boundaries and professional dignity. Now she found herself playing dangerous games with students half her age, letting the college HOD press against her body, and responding to inappropriate touches with provocative gestures of her own.
Her mind replayed each mortifying scene: being trapped in the locked lab with Pathan, his hungry lips capturing hers as she froze in shock; Vishnu's bold demand to see her without her pallu in the boys' toilet, his fingers tracing her exposed navel; Seenu leaning against her as she reached for books, his arousal evident against her back as he asked pointed questions about her "special tutoring."
"How did I get here?" she whispered to the empty room.
The fight with Rajeevan had been the breaking point. That video of him with another woman had shattered something inside her—her trust, her dignity, her certainty about who she was. When he'd shouted at her instead of explaining, blaming her for doubting him, something fundamental had shifted in their relationship.
And then Saradha's advice echoed in her mind: "Why not make them desire you? Control their want instead of letting it control you."
Devika pressed her palms against her eyes, as if to block out the memory. But Saradha's words had taken root, offering a twisted solution to her powerlessness. Instead of being hunted, she would become the hunter. Instead of fearing their desire, she would weaponize it.
But today, watching Pathan brazenly blow kisses across the staffroom and Vishnu making crude gestures about her navel during lectures, she realized she'd lost control of the situation entirely. Her attempts to regain power by responding to their advances hadn't intimidated them—it had emboldened them further.
"I'm their teacher," she whispered, disgust rising in her throat. "What kind of teacher responds to a student's kiss? What kind of professional exposes herself in a college toilet?"
The anonymous message on her phone haunted her: "Don't start what you can't finish, madam." Someone was watching her performance with the lollipop, someone who knew her vulnerabilities and was eager to exploit them.
She thought about calling her mother in Kerala, hearing her gentle voice speaking traditional wisdom. What would Amma say if she knew her daughter was caught in this web of inappropriate relationships? The shame would kill her.
Devika stood on shaky legs and walked to her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked hollow, her lips still faintly swollen from Pathan's forceful kiss. She splashed cold water on her face repeatedly, scrubbing at her skin as if to wash away the memory of their touches.
"This has to stop," she told her reflection firmly. "I need to be the teacher they hired me to be, not this... this person I'm becoming."
But even as she made this resolution, doubt crept in. Would they accept her sudden change of behavior? Or would they expose her previous indiscretions, destroying her career and marriage in one blow? The thought of Rajeevan discovering what she'd done made her physically ill.
Devika returned to the living room and sank back onto the sofa, her head in her hands. She was trapped in a prison of her own making, with walls closing in from all sides. The control she thought she'd gained was merely an illusion—in reality, she'd given them more ammunition to use against her.
"I need to find a way out," she whispered, determination mingling with desperation in her voice. "I need to reclaim who I really am before I lose myself completely."
But as darkness fell outside her window, Devika wasn't sure if there was a path back to the woman she used to be—or if that woman even existed anymore.
The sleepless night left Devika hollow-eyed and numb as morning broke. Her reflection stared back at her—a stranger wearing her face, moving through motions that once felt natural but now seemed mechanical. The weight of her choices pressed down on her shoulders as she dbangd her pallu across them, adjusting her saree with trembling fingers.
She needed to talk to someone. The pressure building inside threatened to crack her completely.
After her first lecture, Devika found herself walking toward Saradha's office, her steps hesitant yet determined. Finding the door ajar, she saw Saradha arranging papers, her reading glasses perched on her nose.
Saradha: "Devika? You look terrible. Come in, close the door."
Devika shut the door behind her and sank into the chair opposite Saradha's desk. For a moment, she couldn't speak, her throat constricting around the words she needed to say.
Devika: "I don't know who I am anymore."
Saradha removed her glasses, studying Devika's face with calculated concern.
Saradha: "What happened?"
The dam broke. Words poured from Devika in a desperate flood.
Devika: "Seenu... he called me to his office yesterday. The way he looked at me... the way he pressed against me while I was arranging books." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He knows about Vishnu and me. He made comments about my 'special attention' to students."
Saradha's eyebrows rose slightly.
Devika: "And Pathan... he trapped me in the lab. We were locked in together, and he—he kissed me. I should have fought harder, should have pushed him away immediately, but I... I didn't."
Her hands twisted in her lap, knuckles white with tension.
Devika: "Vishnu was worse. He blackmailed me into meeting him in the boys' toilet. He made me show him... made me let him touch..." She couldn't finish, shame coloring her cheeks. "What kind of teacher does these things? What's happening to me?"
Saradha remained silent, her expression unreadable as Devika's confession unfolded. When Devika finally fell quiet, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Saradha leaned forward.
Saradha: "I never imagined things had gone this far. The boys' toilet? Devika..."
The disappointment in Saradha's voice made Devika flinch. But instead of the condemnation she expected, Saradha's expression shifted to something more calculating.
Saradha: "You know, Seenu isn't the monster you think he is. His wife left him years ago—a terrible fight that broke him. He's been alone ever since, no woman to share his life with."
Devika looked up, confusion replacing shame.
Devika: "That doesn't give him the right to—he's old enough to be my father!"
Saradha laughed, a short, knowing sound that made Devika uncomfortable.
Saradha: "Age doesn't matter when it comes to desire, Devika. Men at his age get especially aroused seeing a beautiful woman like you. Your Kerala complexion, your figure in those fitted blouses—did you really think they wouldn't notice?"
Devika stared at her, incredulous.
Devika: "Are you suggesting I should... sleep with him? Is that what you're saying?"
Saradha: "No, no. That would be senseless. Then you'd get emotionally entangled, and they'd lose interest once they've had what they wanted."
Devika's head spun, trying to follow Saradha's logic.
Saradha: "Keep them engaged, but set limits. Take control instead of letting them control you. Tease them, but don't give everything."
Devika: "What exactly are you suggesting I do?"
Saradha hesitated, tapping her fingers on the desk.
Saradha: "I shouldn't be too direct..."
Devika: "Please, I need guidance. I'm drowning here."
Saradha's eyes gleamed with something Devika couldn't identify—satisfaction, perhaps, or calculation.
Saradha: "With Seenu, share in his loneliness. Tell him about your troubles with Rajeevan. Console him with hugs, perhaps kisses. Let him play a little, but keep the final boundaries."
Devika's eyes widened.
Saradha: "As for the boys... you've already let Vishnu have his way in the toilet. It's too late to stop now—they'll only become more aggressive if you try to pull back."
Devika's stomach turned to ice.
Saradha: "Play along, but use it to your advantage. Make them study. Don't agree immediately next time—make Vishnu beg. Tell him you'll only meet him if his grades improve."
Devika: "This is insane. You can't seriously be suggesting—"
Saradha: "Tell him if he studies well, next time you'll remove your saree completely. Seduce him slowly. Let him remove his shirt, feel your body against his. Let him explore your navel if that's what he wants."
Devika's mouth fell open in shock.
Devika: "You want me to remove my saree completely? In the college toilet?"
Saradha: "Yes. And tell him if his marks improve further, you might even take his... you know... in your mouth."
The crude suggestion hung in the air between them. Devika couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Devika: "What did you just say?"
Saradha: "It would satisfy him completely. Men love that."
Devika's heart hammered against her ribs, her breathing shallow and quick.
Saradha: "With Pathan, it's the same. You've already let him taste your lips. Take control of the situation. When he tries to take advantage, resist a little, then tell him you'll allow it only if he studies. Let him kiss you in empty corridors, abandoned classrooms. If he shows you romantic movies, watch them—even porn if he suggests it."
Devika: "Watch porn? With my student?"
Saradha: "Tell him you'll fulfill the fantasies you see there if his grades improve. Oral pleasures are something you can give without full commitment. These boys are fond of women, especially exotic Kerala girls like you. They'll do anything for that privilege."
Devika sat frozen, unable to comprehend how her trusted senior had transformed into this person suggesting such outrageous acts. Yet, in her confusion and isolation, a small part of her wondered if Saradha was right. She'd already crossed so many lines—was there really any going back?
Her marriage was hollow, her professional boundaries already compromised. Maybe using these men's desires to make them study was the only power she had left.
Saradha: "Keep me informed about your... activities with them. I can give you more ideas, help you navigate this situation."
Devika nodded numbly, rising from her chair like a sleepwalker. As she turned to leave, Saradha called after her.
Saradha: "Remember, Devika—you're in control now. Make them work for every touch, every glimpse. That's your power."
Devika walked out, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The sensible part of her recoiled at Saradha's suggestions, recognizing them as fundamentally wrong and dangerous. But another part—the part starved for connection, for desire, for power in a life where she felt increasingly powerless—considered the path being offered.
As she moved through the corridor toward her next class, Devika caught sight of Vishnu watching her from the stairwell, his eyes tracking her movements with hungry intent. Instead of avoiding his gaze, she held it for a moment longer than necessary, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
Perhaps Saradha was right. Perhaps this was the only way forward now.
He clicked on a minimized window—security footage from the boys' restroom. The black and white video showed Vishnu pulling at Devika's saree, exposing her waist. Seenu's eyes darkened as he watched Devika's initial protest fade into acquiescence. His hands moved beneath the desk as he watched Vishnu's fingers trace her navel, the Kerala woman's face transforming from reluctance to something else entirely.
"So this is what you've been doing with your students," he whispered to the screen, jerking rhythmically as Vishnu's mouth moved toward Devika's exposed skin.
The practical lab hummed with fluorescent lights and the soft bubbling of chemical solutions. Devika entered with her notes clutched tightly against her chest, a shield against what awaited her. She paused at the doorway—Pathan and Vishnu were already there, arranging microscopes at separate tables.
"Good afternoon, madam," Vishnu called with a casual smile that betrayed nothing of their encounter in the boys' toilet.
Pathan merely nodded, his eyes tracing the carefully wrapped pleats of her saree. Devika felt heat rise to her face, memories of his lips pressed against hers in this very lab flooding back unbidden.
"Today we're examining bacterial cultures," she announced, her voice sounding strange in her own ears. "Please prepare your slides according to page 83."
She moved through the lab, placing her notes on the desk, keeping her movements deliberately professional. How could she face these boys after what had happened? Her fingers trembled slightly as she arranged the specimen cultures.
When Vishnu announced he needed to collect additional materials from the storage room, Devika felt a momentary relief. She bent over a microscope, adjusting the focus, trying to lose herself in the familiar task.
She didn't hear Pathan approach until his chest pressed against her back, his arms sliding around her to place his hands over hers on the microscope. His breath was warm against her neck.
"What are you—" she began, freezing in place.
"Just helping you check the component, madam," he whispered, his body molding perfectly against her curved form. "Don't worry, Vishnu went to pick up materials."
Devika tried to stand upright, but Pathan maintained his position, his arms creating a cage around her. The heat of his body seeped through her thin cotton saree.
"Move back, Pathan," she hissed, finally finding her voice. "This is completely inappropriate."
"Please, madam. Just stay like this for a moment," he pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Remember our kiss in this lab? I can't stop thinking about it."
"That wasn't me," Devika said, her voice shaking. "You kissed me. I just... forgot myself."
"Maybe," he conceded, "but you kissed me back. I felt it. I can't forget the taste of your lips."
Devika could feel something hard pressing against her from behind, and realized with horror that Pathan was becoming aroused. Worse still, he began to subtly move his hips, creating a gentle pressure against her.
"Stop this immediately," she whispered harshly, horrified at what was happening in the middle of the college laboratory. "I am your professor."
"I know," he breathed into her ear. "That's what makes it so exciting."
His hands slid from the microscope to her waist, fingers splaying across her midriff. "Yesterday I watched a movie where the hero tasted the heroine... just like how we kissed in the lab."
"Pathan, you need to stop. Vishnu might return any moment."
His grip tightened slightly. "So you're worried about getting caught, not about what I'm doing?" A note of triumph entered his voice. "Don't worry, Vishnu will take time. I made sure of it."
Devika felt trapped between the laboratory bench and Pathan's body, her mind racing with conflicting emotions—fear, outrage, and something else she couldn't name.
"Before I go," he whispered, "I need just one more kiss."
Before she could react, Pathan turned her head with gentle pressure and captured her lips with his. The familiar taste of paan invaded her senses as he gave her quick, eager sucks on her upper and lower lips. For a heartbeat, Devika found herself responding, her lips moving against his—then reality crashed back.
She pulled away just as footsteps sounded in the corridor. Pathan stepped back quickly, moving to his workstation with practiced casualness. When Vishnu entered with a box of slides, Devika was still standing by the microscope, her fingers pressed against her tingling lips, shock written across her face.
"Found them, madam," Vishnu announced, glancing between her and Pathan with shrewd eyes. "Is everything okay?"
Devika smoothed her saree with trembling hands. "Yes, just... continue with your work. I need to check something in my notes."
As she retreated to her desk, Devika caught Pathan's subtle smile of satisfaction. Her world had tilted on its axis, and she wasn't sure how to right it again. The taste of paan lingered on her lips, and the imprint of his body against hers seemed burned into her skin.
What terrified her most wasn't what had happened—but that some small, secret part of her had responded to his touch.
In the days that followed, something shifted in the delicate power balance between Devika and her two persistent students. What had begun as isolated incidents morphed into a dangerous daily ritual, with both young men growing increasingly emboldened.
The morning after the toilet encounter, Pathan spotted Devika entering the staffroom. While other professors chatted nearby, he caught her eye from across the room and brazenly puckered his lips, blowing a silent kiss. Devika froze, her eyes darting around to see if anyone noticed. When she glared at him in warning, he merely smiled, his eyebrows rising in innocent question as if asking her to respond in kind.
"Good morning, madam," he called out loudly, making other faculty members turn. "Hope you're feeling well today."
Beneath his innocent greeting, his lips formed the words "I miss your taste" where only she could see. Devika hurriedly looked away, her hands trembling as she arranged her notes.
Later that day, while passing her in a crowded corridor between classes, Pathan deliberately brushed against her. In the momentary contact, he pressed his saliva-coated finger against her lips, rubbing it across them before disappearing into the crowd.
Devika stood shocked, the taste of his saliva lingering on her lips, mingling with the paan he habitually chewed. She wiped her mouth furiously, but the violation had already occurred—in plain sight, with students and faculty moving around them.
Vishnu employed different tactics. During her lecture, he would stare unblinkingly at her waist, his eyes tracing the outline of her navel beneath her saree. When she caught him looking, he would form a circle with his finger and thumb, then slowly insert his index finger from his other hand through the hole—a crude mimicry of his actions in the toilet.
Once, while submitting an assignment, he whispered, "I can still feel how warm it was inside, madam," his eyes fixed on her midriff.
By Thursday, Devika felt besieged from all sides. In the cafeteria, she watched Pathan enter with his friends. Their eyes met, and before she could look away, he ran his tongue slowly across his lips. The gesture was so blatant that several students turned to see what had caught his attention.
Instead of shrinking away, something snapped inside Devika. If they were determined to play this game, perhaps she should take control of the rules.
The next time Pathan blew her a virtual kiss from across the staffroom, she surprised him by subtly puckering her lips in return, then offering a seductive smile that made him nearly drop his books. His shock was evident—he had expected resistance, not reciprocation.
During a practical session where Vishnu kept making suggestive gestures about her navel, Devika deliberately raised her arms to reach for equipment on a high shelf, knowing her saree would rise slightly above her waist. She locked eyes with him as she did so, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.
On Friday, when Pathan lingered after class with another of his virtual kisses, Devika took her index finger and slowly put it into her mouth, sucking it gently while maintaining eye contact. His eyes widened, and for once, he was the one who looked away first, visibly affected by her bold response.
"What's wrong, Pathan?" she asked innocently. "You seem distracted today."
"N-nothing, madam," he stammered, his confident facade crumbling.
That afternoon in the cafeteria, she spotted Vishnu watching her from a distance. With deliberate slowness, she unwrapped a lollipop, placed it between her lips, and began to suck it methodically, her eyes never leaving his. She swirled her tongue around the candy, taking her time, making a performance of it. Vishnu sat transfixed, unable to move or look away.
Walking across campus afterward, she passed Pathan and his friends. She adjusted her saree, tucking it slightly lower on her waist, exposing more skin than usual. She placed her hand on her bare hip in a casual gesture that she knew would catch his attention.
But beneath these calculated moves, anger simmered. Each provocative response was designed not to encourage but to unsettle—to turn their game back on them. They had expected a frightened teacher, not a woman who would challenge their advances.
Devika closed her apartment door behind her, leaning against it as if to barricade herself from the world outside. The day's events swirled in her mind like a toxic whirlpool, pulling her deeper into confusion and self-loathing. She dragged herself to the sofa and collapsed, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.
What had she become?
Three months ago, she'd arrived in Pune as a respected biology teacher with clear boundaries and professional dignity. Now she found herself playing dangerous games with students half her age, letting the college HOD press against her body, and responding to inappropriate touches with provocative gestures of her own.
Her mind replayed each mortifying scene: being trapped in the locked lab with Pathan, his hungry lips capturing hers as she froze in shock; Vishnu's bold demand to see her without her pallu in the boys' toilet, his fingers tracing her exposed navel; Seenu leaning against her as she reached for books, his arousal evident against her back as he asked pointed questions about her "special tutoring."
"How did I get here?" she whispered to the empty room.
The fight with Rajeevan had been the breaking point. That video of him with another woman had shattered something inside her—her trust, her dignity, her certainty about who she was. When he'd shouted at her instead of explaining, blaming her for doubting him, something fundamental had shifted in their relationship.
And then Saradha's advice echoed in her mind: "Why not make them desire you? Control their want instead of letting it control you."
Devika pressed her palms against her eyes, as if to block out the memory. But Saradha's words had taken root, offering a twisted solution to her powerlessness. Instead of being hunted, she would become the hunter. Instead of fearing their desire, she would weaponize it.
But today, watching Pathan brazenly blow kisses across the staffroom and Vishnu making crude gestures about her navel during lectures, she realized she'd lost control of the situation entirely. Her attempts to regain power by responding to their advances hadn't intimidated them—it had emboldened them further.
"I'm their teacher," she whispered, disgust rising in her throat. "What kind of teacher responds to a student's kiss? What kind of professional exposes herself in a college toilet?"
The anonymous message on her phone haunted her: "Don't start what you can't finish, madam." Someone was watching her performance with the lollipop, someone who knew her vulnerabilities and was eager to exploit them.
She thought about calling her mother in Kerala, hearing her gentle voice speaking traditional wisdom. What would Amma say if she knew her daughter was caught in this web of inappropriate relationships? The shame would kill her.
Devika stood on shaky legs and walked to her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked hollow, her lips still faintly swollen from Pathan's forceful kiss. She splashed cold water on her face repeatedly, scrubbing at her skin as if to wash away the memory of their touches.
"This has to stop," she told her reflection firmly. "I need to be the teacher they hired me to be, not this... this person I'm becoming."
But even as she made this resolution, doubt crept in. Would they accept her sudden change of behavior? Or would they expose her previous indiscretions, destroying her career and marriage in one blow? The thought of Rajeevan discovering what she'd done made her physically ill.
Devika returned to the living room and sank back onto the sofa, her head in her hands. She was trapped in a prison of her own making, with walls closing in from all sides. The control she thought she'd gained was merely an illusion—in reality, she'd given them more ammunition to use against her.
"I need to find a way out," she whispered, determination mingling with desperation in her voice. "I need to reclaim who I really am before I lose myself completely."
But as darkness fell outside her window, Devika wasn't sure if there was a path back to the woman she used to be—or if that woman even existed anymore.
The sleepless night left Devika hollow-eyed and numb as morning broke. Her reflection stared back at her—a stranger wearing her face, moving through motions that once felt natural but now seemed mechanical. The weight of her choices pressed down on her shoulders as she dbangd her pallu across them, adjusting her saree with trembling fingers.
She needed to talk to someone. The pressure building inside threatened to crack her completely.
After her first lecture, Devika found herself walking toward Saradha's office, her steps hesitant yet determined. Finding the door ajar, she saw Saradha arranging papers, her reading glasses perched on her nose.
Saradha: "Devika? You look terrible. Come in, close the door."
Devika shut the door behind her and sank into the chair opposite Saradha's desk. For a moment, she couldn't speak, her throat constricting around the words she needed to say.
Devika: "I don't know who I am anymore."
Saradha removed her glasses, studying Devika's face with calculated concern.
Saradha: "What happened?"
The dam broke. Words poured from Devika in a desperate flood.
Devika: "Seenu... he called me to his office yesterday. The way he looked at me... the way he pressed against me while I was arranging books." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He knows about Vishnu and me. He made comments about my 'special attention' to students."
Saradha's eyebrows rose slightly.
Devika: "And Pathan... he trapped me in the lab. We were locked in together, and he—he kissed me. I should have fought harder, should have pushed him away immediately, but I... I didn't."
Her hands twisted in her lap, knuckles white with tension.
Devika: "Vishnu was worse. He blackmailed me into meeting him in the boys' toilet. He made me show him... made me let him touch..." She couldn't finish, shame coloring her cheeks. "What kind of teacher does these things? What's happening to me?"
Saradha remained silent, her expression unreadable as Devika's confession unfolded. When Devika finally fell quiet, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Saradha leaned forward.
Saradha: "I never imagined things had gone this far. The boys' toilet? Devika..."
The disappointment in Saradha's voice made Devika flinch. But instead of the condemnation she expected, Saradha's expression shifted to something more calculating.
Saradha: "You know, Seenu isn't the monster you think he is. His wife left him years ago—a terrible fight that broke him. He's been alone ever since, no woman to share his life with."
Devika looked up, confusion replacing shame.
Devika: "That doesn't give him the right to—he's old enough to be my father!"
Saradha laughed, a short, knowing sound that made Devika uncomfortable.
Saradha: "Age doesn't matter when it comes to desire, Devika. Men at his age get especially aroused seeing a beautiful woman like you. Your Kerala complexion, your figure in those fitted blouses—did you really think they wouldn't notice?"
Devika stared at her, incredulous.
Devika: "Are you suggesting I should... sleep with him? Is that what you're saying?"
Saradha: "No, no. That would be senseless. Then you'd get emotionally entangled, and they'd lose interest once they've had what they wanted."
Devika's head spun, trying to follow Saradha's logic.
Saradha: "Keep them engaged, but set limits. Take control instead of letting them control you. Tease them, but don't give everything."
Devika: "What exactly are you suggesting I do?"
Saradha hesitated, tapping her fingers on the desk.
Saradha: "I shouldn't be too direct..."
Devika: "Please, I need guidance. I'm drowning here."
Saradha's eyes gleamed with something Devika couldn't identify—satisfaction, perhaps, or calculation.
Saradha: "With Seenu, share in his loneliness. Tell him about your troubles with Rajeevan. Console him with hugs, perhaps kisses. Let him play a little, but keep the final boundaries."
Devika's eyes widened.
Saradha: "As for the boys... you've already let Vishnu have his way in the toilet. It's too late to stop now—they'll only become more aggressive if you try to pull back."
Devika's stomach turned to ice.
Saradha: "Play along, but use it to your advantage. Make them study. Don't agree immediately next time—make Vishnu beg. Tell him you'll only meet him if his grades improve."
Devika: "This is insane. You can't seriously be suggesting—"
Saradha: "Tell him if he studies well, next time you'll remove your saree completely. Seduce him slowly. Let him remove his shirt, feel your body against his. Let him explore your navel if that's what he wants."
Devika's mouth fell open in shock.
Devika: "You want me to remove my saree completely? In the college toilet?"
Saradha: "Yes. And tell him if his marks improve further, you might even take his... you know... in your mouth."
The crude suggestion hung in the air between them. Devika couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Devika: "What did you just say?"
Saradha: "It would satisfy him completely. Men love that."
Devika's heart hammered against her ribs, her breathing shallow and quick.
Saradha: "With Pathan, it's the same. You've already let him taste your lips. Take control of the situation. When he tries to take advantage, resist a little, then tell him you'll allow it only if he studies. Let him kiss you in empty corridors, abandoned classrooms. If he shows you romantic movies, watch them—even porn if he suggests it."
Devika: "Watch porn? With my student?"
Saradha: "Tell him you'll fulfill the fantasies you see there if his grades improve. Oral pleasures are something you can give without full commitment. These boys are fond of women, especially exotic Kerala girls like you. They'll do anything for that privilege."
Devika sat frozen, unable to comprehend how her trusted senior had transformed into this person suggesting such outrageous acts. Yet, in her confusion and isolation, a small part of her wondered if Saradha was right. She'd already crossed so many lines—was there really any going back?
Her marriage was hollow, her professional boundaries already compromised. Maybe using these men's desires to make them study was the only power she had left.
Saradha: "Keep me informed about your... activities with them. I can give you more ideas, help you navigate this situation."
Devika nodded numbly, rising from her chair like a sleepwalker. As she turned to leave, Saradha called after her.
Saradha: "Remember, Devika—you're in control now. Make them work for every touch, every glimpse. That's your power."
Devika walked out, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The sensible part of her recoiled at Saradha's suggestions, recognizing them as fundamentally wrong and dangerous. But another part—the part starved for connection, for desire, for power in a life where she felt increasingly powerless—considered the path being offered.
As she moved through the corridor toward her next class, Devika caught sight of Vishnu watching her from the stairwell, his eyes tracking her movements with hungry intent. Instead of avoiding his gaze, she held it for a moment longer than necessary, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
Perhaps Saradha was right. Perhaps this was the only way forward now.
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