05-02-2026, 11:32 PM
After the beggar shuffled out the gate and the iron latch clanged shut behind him, the lane fell silent again.
Divya stood frozen in the hall for several long seconds — one hand still pressed to the bolted door, the other clutching the front of her nighty as if she could pull the thin cotton tighter around her body and erase what had just happened.
Then the tension in her shoulders slowly… unwound.
She exhaled — long, shaky, almost a sigh of relief.
The beggar was gone.
No more rough palm on her ass.
No more sour breath on her neck. No more dirty fingers trying to guide her hand to his hardness.
She was safe.
For now.
She walked to the sofa on unsteady legs, sank down onto the cushions, and pulled the thin blanket over herself.
. She curled onto her side, facing the dim hall light, knees drawn toward her chest.
Her mind replayed the rooftop in fragments — the slap, the grope, the way she’d frozen instead of screaming, the way her body had betrayed her with a flicker of unwanted heat when his cock pressed against her through the fabric.
She closed her eyes.
A single thought rose clear and bitter:
---If Ranjith hadn’t called at that moment… the beggar definitely would have done that to me. Pushed me down. Taken more. Everything.---
The shame hit her like a fresh wave — hot, suffocating.
--What a shame… what a dirty, disgusting shame I’ve become.---
She hugged the blanket tighter, face buried in the cushion.
Monu’s soft breathing drifted from the next room — innocent, steady.
Ranjith’s call had saved her.
But it hadn’t erased the memory. Hadn’t erased the tingling red mark on her ass. Hadn’t erased the way her nipples still ached faintly from the beggar’s rough thumbs.
She felt filthy.
Used.
And yet… strangely relaxed now that the danger had passed.
Exhaustion finally overtook the churning thoughts.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
Divya stood frozen in the hall for several long seconds — one hand still pressed to the bolted door, the other clutching the front of her nighty as if she could pull the thin cotton tighter around her body and erase what had just happened.
Then the tension in her shoulders slowly… unwound.
She exhaled — long, shaky, almost a sigh of relief.
The beggar was gone.
No more rough palm on her ass.
No more sour breath on her neck. No more dirty fingers trying to guide her hand to his hardness.
She was safe.
For now.
She walked to the sofa on unsteady legs, sank down onto the cushions, and pulled the thin blanket over herself.
. She curled onto her side, facing the dim hall light, knees drawn toward her chest.
Her mind replayed the rooftop in fragments — the slap, the grope, the way she’d frozen instead of screaming, the way her body had betrayed her with a flicker of unwanted heat when his cock pressed against her through the fabric.
She closed her eyes.
A single thought rose clear and bitter:
---If Ranjith hadn’t called at that moment… the beggar definitely would have done that to me. Pushed me down. Taken more. Everything.---
The shame hit her like a fresh wave — hot, suffocating.
--What a shame… what a dirty, disgusting shame I’ve become.---
She hugged the blanket tighter, face buried in the cushion.
Monu’s soft breathing drifted from the next room — innocent, steady.
Ranjith’s call had saved her.
But it hadn’t erased the memory. Hadn’t erased the tingling red mark on her ass. Hadn’t erased the way her nipples still ached faintly from the beggar’s rough thumbs.
She felt filthy.
Used.
And yet… strangely relaxed now that the danger had passed.
Exhaustion finally overtook the churning thoughts.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
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