The sky rumbled. It was about to rain. I must hurry back. I was on an errand to buy some titbits and knick-knacks. It was just a casual detour from my otherwise routine Indian housewife schedule. I did most of my grocery shopping online, but whenever my husband was away on a business tour for two or three days, I eloped on such errands. The weather was hot and humid. So, I had tied my lush, waist-length long hair in a sim...

1 I woke up feeling cold, and it took an instant to realize why; the blanket that was covering me was no longer on me anymore. I lay naked and spread-eagled on the bed—yet again. It had been the same experience for me for the past several nights of this holiday season. I remembered that I went to bed fully dressed in a nightgown and panties—no bra, of course, for the sake of comfort—and did not remember undressing at all,...

At the faintest suggestion of dawn—a subtle gray light barely filtering through the curtains… I woke up, my body simultaneously fatigued and charged with unfamiliar energy. Bill lay beside me, his arm draped over my waist with possessive weight, his breathing steady and deep. In terms of physicality, he was markedly larger than Ronnie, both in stature and, quite unmistakably, in other attributes. The recollection of initi...

Day two kicked off with that relentless monsoon beat—rain smacking the window like it had something to prove. Rimi’s place always smelled like jasmine, and the hum of the AC was weirdly comforting. I blinked awake, confused for a hot second, until I caught the scent, heard the drone, and remembered I was not in my own bed. Rimi was curled up right next to me, her arm slung over my breasts, all cozy and casual, like this w...

The monsoon had finally broken by the time I returned to Rimi's Makeover. The mobile internet service was down. The rainwater was still clinging to the edges of my dupatta, and Kolkata smelled of jasmine and wet dust. The smell of freshly applied sandalwood cream and mehendi (temporary skin decoration using a paste created with henna), however, filled the parlor, which was warm and dry. Rimi had a half-empty glass of lime...

I did what I do best for the next five days. I assimilated into the cadence of routine, being safe, steady, and measured. Get up. Take a bath. Prepare food. Sign in. Grin and talk. Control. Take the lead. Log off. Go to sleep. Do it again. Updates, goals, and dashboards were all over the office chat. I answered them all. I used exclamation points and emojis in my response. I worked effectively. Expert. Steady. I appeared...

My name is Mrs. Alta Bose ( Ālatā bōs). I am a 28-year-old Bengali woman employed as a night-shift representative at a multinational bank's call center. I have been married for seven years to Mr. Ronnie Bose, who is 32 years old and works as an architect. His profession requires frequent travel and day shifts, resulting in our schedules rarely aligning. Our preferences diverge in several respects, including cuisine and en...

The weight of her words fell upon me, and I gazed into my mother's eyes, searching for reassurance. Her eyes were fixed, and she squeezed my hand softly. "You are strong, Myra," she said softly, "and you are loved. I know this because I was a young woman of Paankpara once. I loved the freedom it offered and I did not want you to be deprived of it" Buriya led the patron in and closed the door behind us, leaving us in the h...

As the reality of the night ahead settled in, I could not help but feel a mix of fear and excitement. "Auntie," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, "what if it hurts?" Aunt Neelima leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "It might," she admitted, "but only for a moment. The pleasure that follows is unlike anything you have ever felt. And remember, I will be with you. I will make sure he is as gentle as...

Our vending and selling continued. Our spot seemed to be a little more crowded than the rest. I realized that most men were gathering around to stare at me. I quietly appreciated Aunt Neelima's strategy to attract customers by bringing a beautiful girl like me with her and, that too, dressing me only in a saree, keeping my hair open. Aunt Neelima is a savvy businesswoman. She understands that my beauty, combined with the...

The secrets of the village seemed to be unraveling before me, and I was eager to learn more about the world I had been invited to become a part of. But wait! I remember that Aunt Neelima said that my mother, Deepa, had sent me here so that I may trace my roots, but what just happened here was purely sexual. Did my mother know about this all along, or did she not? If not, then what should I tell her? Again, the door was pu...

Excited and titillated, I nodded in the affirmative. She smiled at me, her eyes filled with a tender, hungry gaze that sent shivers down my spine. She gathered my hair at the base of my nape into a loose ponytail held by the clutch of her hand, the silky strands slipping through her fingers as she tugged gently. She kissed me again, and this time again, our tongues intertwined, and I liked the way she was sucking it. She...

The environment of this village is quite peaceful, the weather is pollution-free, and the air and water are sufficiently clean. After staying for two or three days, I have felt the effect of the weather and air on myself. My appearance, youth, and charm seem to have blossomed even more, and my beauty and glow seem to have increased. Just like most houses in the village, Aunt Neelima's house was quite big, with a courtyard...

My name is Myra Malai. I am 19 years old and I live in the city. I had decided to take a break from the city life. We have an old acquaintance named Neelima. I call her Neelima Aunty, and to spend my vacation, I have come to Nilima's aunt's house in our village, away from the city. There was a hush-hush that the village holds many secrets. It was very strange that Neelima's aunt’s village, which was named "Paankpada," had...