She worked a 9-hour shift at the hospital, plus 3-hours of overtime, for a total of nearly 2-days’ pay. She purchased a flower from the streets as usual on her way back, boarded the final metro, and arrived at her neighboring metro station. Not to mention that there was no chance she could get an auto-rickshaw at 10:55 at night, so she chose to walk. From the metro station to her residence, it took close to 43 minutes. Despite the fact that she had stopped at the lake in the middle of her stroll, she sat in the wooden four-seater chair for at least 15 minutes to watch the moonlight glisten on the water.
She unpinned her saree off her shoulder, undid her blouse’s buttons, took her bra off, dropped these on the floor, and let her boobs hang loosely as soon as she was inside her apartment. We all know how it feels after taking off the bra, and as she breathed a sigh of relief, air conditioning air flowed through her skin. She then pulled her saree away from her petticoat, allowing it to also fall to the ground. She took a step outside and removed her petticoat as well, leaving her completely naked.
She headed to the balcony as usual, opened the slider gate, and stood there. It was moonlight, and it was all over her body. She scanned the area here and there, but the surrounding apartments were empty. Although her naked body cherished the air, the fresh, chilly air touching her body made her shudder a little.
Priyanka waited a short while before entering when she noticed that a light was on in a distant unit. She moved behind the curtains to hide, even though it was unlikely that anyone could see her from that distance. She then caught a glimpse and saw another man standing close behind a huge glass wall. She pulled her binoculars out of the closet to take another look, out of curiosity.
He was simply gazing back at her while holding a binocular. He was a really handsome and masculine young man from head to toe, with an adoring hairdo, innocent face, biceps, pumped chest, abs, and other body parts. When their eyes met, she startled, ducked back, smiled, and felt a little self-conscious since she assumed he had probably seen her naked on the balcony.
After waiting for a few minutes, Priyanka glanced behind, half-expecting the man to have departed by then. To her surprise, he remained, holding up an A4 paper inscribed with the message “CONTACT?” in bold red marker. She gasped, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment before mustering the courage to respond. Ignoring the fact that she was still naked, she grabbed her red lipstick, hastily scrawled her phone number on a piece of white paper, and boldly displayed it from the balcony.
Both disappeared in a short amount of time. That night, when she was dining at her kitchen island, she received the text, “My place?”
“Sure. Tomorrow is a day off for me.” Without giving it a second thought, she responded and then gasped. She might have accepted having a sexual encounter with a stranger she had never met before. What the fuck had she just done?
Her hands began to quiver, her heart started to race, and she was at a loss for what to do. She looked out of the kitchen window. The light was off. She first considered responding to him by telling him the message had been sent by accident. Then she wondered how she would possibly explain such, although she imagined her husband had already cheated and was living in luxury, so why shouldn’t she enjoy herself?
Priyanka made up her mind. After supper, she stayed awake for the next two hours, gazing at her phone in anticipation of a response, but nothing came. She eventually fell asleep.
Priyanka typically keeps herself quite busy on her days off by doing laundry, gardening, and grocery shopping until her next week off. The following day, however, was the longest and most hectic of her life. She didn’t have a work shift and wasn’t interested in everything. Instead, she chose to stay in bed, checking her phone every five minutes in anticipation of a special message. and yet nothing.
The next couple of days passed similarly; she awoke, prepared for the hospital, went to work, and then came home. She found it strange that he first asked to meet but did not respond back.
She found a text that said, “4 number metro gate exact 12 hours from now,” when she woke up the next morning on a Saturday. She had received that at 3:45 AM.
It sent chills down her spine after reading that text. She went through that message over and over and over again. It took almost 10 minutes to recover from that thrill. Determined not to squander any more time, she swiftly dialed the hospital, pleading for leave and promising to compensate by working a grueling 24-hour shift on Sunday. Recognizing the significance of Saturdays and Sundays, the days when a multitude of patients arrived for routine check-ups and tests, she managed to persuade them to grant her request.
Then she jumped out of bed, slipped on one of her Salwar-Kurti and went to the grocery store to arrange her food for the whole week. The whole time she walked and shopped, she thought to herself:
The 4-number gate is under construction; why the hell would someone ask me to go there? But who cares…
But what should I wear…
What if someone from the hospital sees me…
I have to look needy and conservative at the same time…
What if I’m taking this too seriously, since he took more than two days to respond…
Nothing conclusive.
She returned to her flat and took a leisurely 30-minute shower. The doorbell rang as soon as she left the bathroom, wrapping a towel around her hair but completely naked as usual. Being surprised, she walked towards the door, picked up her white sheer loungerobe from her closet, and put it on before opening it just a bit. A man standing in a dapper suit, white gloves, a tie, and spectacles was holding a large box and a bouquet.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Ms. Priyanka?” he asked.
“Yes” I confirmed.
“A parcel for you, ma’am.” he said.
“A minute, please.” Priyanka knew she couldn’t collect anything if she didn’t open the door. So she unfolded the towel and wrapped it around her waist, bringing her hair forward to cover her boobs, and finally opened the gate wide.
The person passed over the box, including the bouquet on top. She was about to shut the door when he asked, “Ma’am, Tip?”
“Umm… Sure, please wait here.” Priyanka smiled and was about to close the door when she heard, “No, Ma’am.”
“Excuse me?” She pushed open the door again.
“About the tip…” he paused.
“Yes, please allow me to take my purse…” She tried to persuade the man.
“Actually, ma’am, it’s already mentioned inside the box,” he interjected.
“I see; please wait here,” she said anxiously, raising her eyebrows.
Once in her room, she realized it was the same bouquet she bought every day before boarding the metro, though she unwrapped the box, which was a black pitch-board-box with a black scarf knotted around it, and within that was a packet containing a V-neck, mid-thigh-length, polyester fabric, 3/4th flutter sleeve Wrap Black Dress. Along with a hand-written greeting card that reads, “Good girl needs SPANKINGS too!” and a blank white card, a red rose was included.
That dress was quite modern and short; she had never worn such a dress in public before. She flipped over the greeting card, reading every line, making her gasp and pussy moist. ‘SPANKING’ was written in capital letters again and again. She read it once more.
What does it mean Good Girl…
What does even mean needs…
Why spanking was written in capital letters…
Am I going to be spanked…
The man standing outside, gonna spank me?…
All these questions were rendering inside her mind, where she heard, “You there, Ma’am? should I go?”
She had no idea how to respond to him but didn’t want him to return either, so she said, “Please wait.”
She murmured as she got to her feet, put down the towel, stepped slowly to the entrance, and flung open the gate once more. Through the transparent robe, the man could clearly see her nakedness, her shaved pussy, but her boobs were hiding behind hairs. However, he focused his attention on her eyes only.
Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were filled with guilt since she was undoubtedly so ashamed. Priyanka somehow established eye contact with him and noticed a red spark flickering on the corner of his right spectacle. She assumed that there must be a camera there and that someone was probably watching. A bit more confident, she gently turned around, slowly drew up her robe, arched her naked ass, and bowed down, saying, “Here is your tip, Mr.”
The man opened the gloves as he took a step forward. She closed her eyes in the meantime, anticipating someone else to touch her exposed ass any second. Despite the fact that she has been touched many times while riding the metro, in the hospital, and in markets, she was obviously wearing clothes.
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