Chapter 29: Emergency Call

The sun was barely cresting the rooftops when Shalini's phone buzzed on the nightstand, slicing through the delicious fog of exhaustion still heavy in her body. She cracked open an eye, muscles aching from the indulgent night before, Ayu's eager tongue and Malika's approving laughter still seared into her memory.

She reached blindly for her phone, blinking at the caller ID. Principal Sharma.

Panic prickled under her skin.

"Hello?" she croaked, voice rough with sleep.

"Madam Shalini," came the principal's sharp, impatient voice, "apologies for the early hour, but we have an emergency. A teacher fell sick, and you must supervise the senior scholarship exam today."

A cold dread replaced her leftover pleasure. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself under the sheets, to keep reliving Ayu's worship of her body, but the iron grip of duty pulled her upright.

"Yes, sir," she replied, forcing calm.

"Be here by eight," he ordered before ending the call.

Shalini exhaled shakily, the phone slipping from her hand. For a second, she wanted to scream, torn between the thrill of her secret night and the dull drag of respectable routine. But there was no escaping — she had to go.

She swung her legs off the bed, flinching as she felt a faint soreness between her thighs, Ayu's tongue having worked her nearly to ruin. A secret, wicked smile tugged at her lips as she rose, crossing to the mirror.

She looked wild — hair tangled, lips swollen, skin still flushed from all the wrong, dangerous pleasures.

Let them see this side of me, she thought suddenly. Let them see what I've become.

Instead of a demure saree, she pulled on a dark green kurti, sleeveless and low-cut enough to tease the upper curve of her breasts, with a pair of tight leggings that hugged her hips so sinfully she nearly moaned at the sight. A thin scarf draped over her shoulders, purely decorative, its purpose clear: to provoke, not to cover.

She painted her lips a deep wine red, lined her eyes in thick kajal, and sprayed a heady sandalwood perfume that made her pulse spike.

The woman in the mirror was no traditional teacher. She was the goddess Malika had awakened.

By eight, she was stepping into the gates of the school, heels clicking, the morning air licking over her bare shoulders. The guard practically choked at the sight of her, eyes darting away in embarrassment.

Good. Let them stare.

Inside the staff room, a hush fell as soon as she walked in. The male teachers pretended to look elsewhere, but their gazes returned again and again to the dip of her neckline, to the tightness of her leggings, to the glimpse of bra lace if she shifted just right.

"Thank you for coming at short notice," Principal Sharma told her, eyeing her with a discomfort he tried to hide.

"Of course, sir," she replied smoothly, a slight smile playing on her lips.

As he explained the invigilation process, Shalini barely heard, her mind drifting to Malika's promise — You will taste things no wife or mother should ever taste.

The thrill of it made her body hum, even in this dull setting.

She took her place in the examination hall, arranging the question papers. The senior boys began filing in, older teens on the cusp of manhood, who usually regarded her with deference — but today, they froze.

Their eyes widened, traveling over her fitted kurti, the faint outline of her bra, the sway of her hips. She let them look, biting back a smile.

As they took their seats, she crossed one leg over the other, the leggings tightening deliciously around her thighs. A hush fell over the class as the boys stole glances, then looked away, embarrassed by their own excitement.

She felt their gazes like hands on her skin.

Halfway through the exam, she rose and walked the aisles, pretending to check answer sheets while the soft scent of sandalwood trailed behind her. She leaned forward over one boy, the fabric of her kurti falling open just enough to hint at cleavage. He stammered, eyes darting straight to her breasts before snapping back to his paper, red-faced.

"Focus," she whispered, letting her breath tickle his ear.

He nodded frantically, clutching his pen.

When she reached the last row, a boy accidentally brushed her hip with his elbow. Shalini turned, letting her breasts nearly graze his cheek as she leaned in. His face burned bright, frozen with fear and excitement.

Her lips curved in the faintest, wickedest smile.

The hours crawled, every second tingling with her power, with their silent worship.

When the bell rang, the students scrambled to collect their papers, still stealing stunned looks at her. Shalini gathered the answer sheets slowly, letting her scarf slip down to show more of her shoulders before pulling it back up with theatrical grace.

That night with Ayu had changed her. And she wanted them to see it.

As she was leaving the room, her phone buzzed.

Malika: Are you ready for more?

Shalini swallowed, her knees weakening.

Yes. She wanted more.

Another message lit up her screen — this time from Ravi.

"Madam, class later today?"

She stared at the text, heart pounding. Another chance to tease. Another chance to taste their worship.

"Yes. Come prepared," she replied, a sly thrill sparking through her.

Hours later, she stepped into the coaching room, this time in a pastel pink blouse with tiny pearl buttons, sleeveless, hugging her breasts so tightly they seemed to dare anyone to stare. Below, a pair of silky navy leggings clung to her legs like a second skin, showing every contour.

Ravi and Prayush were already there, eyes widening in open worship as she entered.

She placed her bag down and turned, letting the boys drink in the sight of her.

"Ready to study?" she asked, voice rich with promise.

They nodded, unable to speak.

Midway through the lesson, she stretched her arms above her head, the blouse shifting to expose a sliver of soft belly. Ravi's eyes practically fell out of his head.

She pretended to drop her pen, letting it roll under the table again.

"Prayush," she called, her voice honey-sweet, "could you pick that up for me?"

As he crawled under the table, she parted her thighs just a hair, letting the scent of her body mix with the faint perfume. His eyes flicked up, starstruck, and then, bold, he kissed the side of her foot.

She shivered, letting him linger, then lightly nudged his cheek with her toe.

"Good boy," she praised, voice low and dark.

Then she let Ravi come closer, guiding his hand to the small of her back, letting him trace the warmth of her bare skin before sliding up toward the curve of her bra.

He hesitated.

"Go ahead," she whispered.

His fingers brushed under the edge of her bra, so soft, so timid, making her gasp.

They were worshiping her, just like Ayu had.

For one sinful second, she let them.

Then she stepped back, composing herself.

"Enough," she teased, straightening her blouse. "Save some for next time."

Their eyes burned with frustrated lust, drinking in every inch of her as she walked out.

Later that evening, a final message came from Malika:

"Tomorrow night. You're coming with me. No excuses."

Shalini read the words with her heart slamming in her chest.

Yes, she thought wildly. I will go.

Because she had tasted what power felt like.

And now she wanted it all.