Fantasy The Teacher Who Knelt to maid Son

[JohnS112]

Chapter Seven: Day 6 – Saturday, 23 May 2020
(The day the queen put the crown back on)
Radha woke at 5:47 a.m.
She lay still for a long time, staring at the ceiling fan, feeling the ghost of yesterday’s nakedness on her skin.
Then she rose, showered in ice-cold water, and dressed like she was going to war.
Steel-grey cotton saree, starched until it could cut paper.
High-neck, long-sleeved blouse, every hook fastened, every pleat perfect.
Hair twisted into the tightest bun she had ever worn, held with six steel pins.
A thick line of sindoor, a large black bindi, no jewellery except the mangalsutra (worn like a warning sign).
She looked in the mirror and saw exactly what she needed the world to see today:
Mrs. Radha Mehta, Head of Mathematics, terror of St. Xavier’s, the woman who could make a boy cry with one raised eyebrow.
Yesterday had happened.
Today it would be buried under six inches of ice.
Nikhil rang the bell at 9:15 a.m. exactly (on time, terrified of being late).
Lakshmi opened the door, smiling.
Radha stood in the corridor like a statue, arms folded, ruler already in her hand.
“Living room. Now. Page 312. Probability.
You will solve every question. If I see one careless mark, you will write the entire chapter fifty times. Begin.”
Nikhil walked past her, head down, heart hammering.
He had spent the night replaying the panty moment in slow motion, coming twice just from memory, certain that today the game would continue.
Instead he got the old Radha Ma’am (colder, stricter, more terrifying than ever).
She stood behind his chair exactly as she had in college, ruler tapping against her palm.
Every time he hesitated, the ruler tapped the table beside his hand (sharp, threatening).
Every time his eyes flicked up to her face, she met them with an expression that could freeze blood.
No smile.
No secret glance.
No acknowledgement that yesterday he had seen her naked from the waist down.
Nothing.
At 11:30 a.m. Lakshmi brought tea.
Radha took the tray without a word, placed one cup in front of him, and said only:
“Drink. Then back to work.”
Their fingers did not brush.
Lunch was the same.
Lakshmi chattered.
Radha answered in single syllables.
Nikhil ate in silence, eyes on his plate, every bite tasting like ash.
Every time he accidentally looked at her, she stared back until he dropped his gaze.
By 4:00 p.m. he had solved three chapters without a single break.
His hand cramped.
His back ached.
His cock had been half-hard all day from proximity and terror, and now it felt like punishment.
At 5:45 p.m. Radha finally spoke more than five words.
“Pack your books. You’re done for the day.”
He stood, legs stiff.
He waited (half hoping, half dreading) for some sign, some whisper, some hint that yesterday had been real.
She gave him nothing.
She walked him to the door, opened it, and said in the exact same voice she had used since Class 5:
“Tomorrow is Sunday. Come at 10 a.m. sharp. Revision test. Three hours. No excuses.”
The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.
Nikhil stood in the corridor outside, heart sinking.
The game was over.
She had changed her mind.
All the clothes, the panty, the open legs (it had been lockdown madness, and now she was ashamed).
His fantasies (the ones where she knelt, where she begged, where she let him do everything he had ever imagined) collapsed like a house of cards.
He walked home with his mother, head down, the weight of fourteen years of fear settling back on his shoulders.
Tomorrow would be just another tuition day.
The queen had put her armour back on, and the boy who had dared to dream was punished for it.
Inside the flat, Radha leaned against the closed door, eyes closed, breathing slow and deliberate.
She had been ice all day because she had to be.
Tomorrow the ice would melt.
Tomorrow, when Lakshmi left at 1:30 p.m.,
the armour would fall,
and the boy who thought the game was over
would discover it had only just begun.
She smiled (small, secret, dangerous) into the empty corridor.
Tomorrow he would learn that the strictest teacher in St. Xavier’s
had only been strict today
so that tomorrow’s surrender would taste even sweeter.

Awesome …amazing plot…please continue…