Shalini took a last sip of her chai, licking a trace of sweetness from her lip. The mirror still showed her — bold, sensual, unashamed — and the sight steadied her. It had been two weeks of transformations, of worship, of crossing lines she once thought unbreakable. And now?
Now there was no turning back.
The guilt that had clawed at her in those first stolen moments — when Ayu had first entered her fully, making her cry out like she was being born again — had faded into nothing. All that remained was hunger, need, and a deep, thrilling sense of power.
She set down her cup and ran her fingertips over the marks Ayu had left on her hips days ago, faint bruises she wore like the jewelry of a goddess. A soft smile played on her lips. They should see me now, all of them, she thought. Ravi, Prayush, even Malika — who had made her believe she deserved this worship in the first place.
She picked up her phone, thumbs hovering. A plan had been in place to meet Malika today, to dress boldly, to let Malika paint her up like a living goddess again and tease Ayu for another session. But a worry tugged at her chest — Avi's exams were about to start, and she couldn't slip away the whole evening without suspicion.
Her finger tapped Malika's name.
> Shalu: Didi, can we push our meeting? Avi's final papers are this week, I have to help him focus.
Malika: Of course, Shalu. Handle Avi first. We can do our worship later. 💋
Shalini exhaled, relief mixing with a tiny pulse of disappointment. Later, then. Ayu would wait.
And tonight, after coaching, Ravi and Prayush would be there.
The thought sent a thrill through her belly.
She'd started seeing them as more than just curious boys. They were her devotees now — sweet, eager, desperate to please. And she had no intention of denying them. She remembered the heat in Ravi's eyes the day before, the way he had almost begged to bury his face between her legs again. Or Prayush's steady hands holding her waist while he kissed every inch of her ankles, slow and reverent, as if each touch might save his soul.
Yes, she would let them worship her again tonight.
Shalini got up, letting her loose kurti sway around her thighs. Underneath, she wore nothing but a thin lace thong, the same blood-red shade that made Ravi's hands tremble. She had chosen it deliberately. Tonight, after the lesson ended, she would close the classroom door, draw the curtains, and let them both approach her — Ravi first, maybe, kissing slowly up her calves, tongue hot and eager, while Prayush massaged the arch of her foot, letting her lean on him like a queen on a throne.
Maybe, if she felt especially generous, she would guide Ravi to taste her again, make him practice those slow, sweet circles with his tongue until she broke apart, gasping his name.
Yes.
She was no longer the modest teacher, fearful of a hungry mouth or worshipful hands.
She was their goddess.
She deserved their worship.
And she would take it — all of it — with a smile and an open heart.
The little voice that once scolded her, this is wrong, this is too far, had gone silent. In its place stood a certainty, powerful and hot:
This was who she was now.
No turning back.
Shalini gathered her bag, breathing a slow, steady sigh. She would go through the day like any other teacher, but as soon as the final student left, the real lesson would begin — the lesson of worship, of devotion, of lips and hands and tongue, praising her like a goddess until she melted.
Her pulse beat hard just thinking about it.
She locked the door behind her with a quiet click, every movement deliberate, every breath charged with anticipation. Today she was ready — ready for their admiration, ready to rule their desires.
Walking toward her coaching classes, Shalini took in the scene with a subtle smile: students loitering about, some standing in groups, others perched on their bicycles, eyes already drawn to her with a mixture of respect and unspoken longing.
As she approached, boys and girls alike greeted her with shy good evenings, unable to look away from the way her clothes clung to her curves. With a graceful motion, she unlocked the classroom gate, and one by one the students filed inside, taking their seats under her watchful gaze.
Ravi and Prayush approached more slowly, their eyes drinking her in with a boldness no other student dared show. As they neared, Shalini leaned down, letting just the faintest trace of her perfume and the curve of her neckline tease them, and whispered in a sultry, controlled voice, "Wait until the students leave after class. Understood?"
Then, with a calm grace that concealed her own simmering excitement, she stepped inside the classroom, Ravi and Prayush following close behind. They took their seats like all the others, but the charged secret between them thrummed in the air as Shalini began the lesson.
The afternoon felt painfully slow. Shalini wrote sums on the board, corrected notebooks, explained a simple formula for trigonometric ratios — all the while half her mind burned with what was coming. Ravi and Prayush were there in the second row, eyes down, but she could feel their attention coiling around her body every time she turned, their breath hitching when she bent to pick up a pen.
She deliberately let the loose kurti slip off her shoulder once, catching Ravi's wide-eyed stare, and gave him the barest hint of a smile. He turned pink, shifting in his seat. Prayush, ever bolder, openly looked at the lace strap of her bra as it peeked out, a dark hunger in his gaze.
Shalini felt powerful. She loved this power.
When the bell rang, she dismissed the rest of the students with her usual kind authority.
"Okay, go home, boys and girls, revise for your test tomorrow."
But Ravi and Prayush stayed behind, pretending to gather their bags. She closed the door, locked it, and slowly turned to them, letting her kurti slip further, almost off one shoulder now, the red lace showing.
"Come here," she said softly.
They obeyed without a word.
Shalini leaned against her teacher's desk, one hand bracing herself, the other resting lightly at her throat, feeling her own pulse thudding. Ravi came first, sinking to his knees, brushing trembling fingers up her shin. Prayush followed, sliding his warm hands around her ankle and lifting her foot gently into his lap, as if handling a holy relic.
"You've both been so patient," she whispered, her voice steady and queenly. "Show me how grateful you are."
Ravi's lips touched the inside of her calf, worshipful, a soft moan escaping him as he pressed higher, tasting her skin like honey. Shalini shivered, letting him go on. Prayush, bolder, bent and kissed her toes through the sandal strap, then pulled the sandal away to worship her bare arch, his tongue hot and eager.
The sensations rolled through her, sparking her nerves alive.
Ravi was at her knee now, gently pushing the kurti up as he kissed above it, daring, worshipping, breathing in her scent. Shalini let out a low moan and spread her feet just slightly, granting them permission.
"Closer," she commanded, almost a growl.
They obeyed.
Ravi pressed his face to her inner thigh, trembling, kissing the soft red lace of her thong, breathing her in like a starving devotee. Prayush still worked her foot, massaging, kissing, brushing his lips around her ankle bone, making her gasp at every swirl of his tongue.
Shalini let her head fall back, her hair spilling down her spine.
This is me, she thought fiercely. This is what I deserve.
Ravi dared a tiny lick along the edge of the thong, almost reverently, making her hips jerk forward. Prayush, emboldened, moved to kiss her other foot, switching back and forth, sighing her name under his breath like a prayer.
"Thank you… thank you, Shalini-ji…" Ravi gasped softly against her thigh.
Her heart melted, but she stayed in her power.
"Good boys," she whispered, voice husky. "Keep going."
They did — Ravi letting his tongue glide higher, tasting the heat through the lace, pressing gentle kisses against her folds, while Prayush moved up to kiss her shin, tracing small, worshipful circles with his lips.
Shalini gripped the edge of the desk, breath coming faster. Their worship was soft but hungry, innocent and filthy all at once. She felt her control slipping and welcomed it, hips rocking forward, letting them taste and adore, letting them see her break apart on their mouths.
She gasped their names, half-sobbing with pleasure, letting herself flow out of her carefully built walls.
Ravi buried his face deeper, tongue coaxing her closer to the edge, while Prayush's hands stroked up her calves, supporting her trembling legs. She felt their warmth, their reverence, and knew there was no turning back.
She was their goddess.
She would never again deny this side of herself.
When her climax finally overtook her, loud and unstoppable, she let it — let them hear her, let them see her, let them know they had truly worshipped her to the stars.
As the waves subsided, she rested her hands on their shoulders, smiling down with a queen's pride.
"Good boys," she breathed again, softer now. "So very good."
And deep in her heart, Shalini knew: there would be no shame, no guilt, and no going back.
Only forward.
Only pleasure.
And she would claim every moment of it.