Chapter 43: almost got caught in the park
She was hyper aware of the swing of her hips, the jiggle of her Melons with every hurried step. She felt a forbidden, thrilling dampness begin to bloom between her thighs, a slickness that was entirely at odds with her fear.
She spotted the tree and there, fluttering like a white flag, was her Lehenga. It was just within reach if she stretched. She glanced around. The path was empty, but she could hear distant voices, the sound of a car engine somewhere beyond the park walls.
Her pulse hammered in her ears. 'Hurry…' She stretched up on her toes, her body forming a long, elegant line. The movement made her Melons lift and tauten. Her fingers brushed the fabric. Got it…
She pulled it down and, with clumsy fingers, stepped into it and pulled it up, the simple cotton garment feeling like a blessed shield around her hips. It was something. Not much, but something.
"Your panties are tucked into the hollow of the third bench on the right," Kondesh's voice called out, smug and directive. He and the others were following at a distance, her audience and her judges.
She found the bench. There they were, a tiny scrap of lace nestled in the dark space beneath the seat. To retrieve them, she had to get on her hands and knees on the gritty path. The position arched her back, presenting her butt, still bare and pale, to the men behind her.
She heard a sharp, collective intake of breath. She snatched the panties and quickly slid them on, the lace a familiar comfort against her now throbbing lower mouth. "The blouse is next. Look in the fountain."
Her head snapped up. The fountain was a central feature, in a more open area. People could be there. She moved quickly, the Lehenga swishing around her legs. Peering around a hedge, she saw the fountain was, mercifully, deserted.
Her yellow blouse was floating in the water, weighed down by something in its pocket. She would have to wade in to get it. The water was shockingly cold as she stepped into the shallow basin.
It came up to her mid thigh, soaking the hem of her Lehenga, making the thin cotton cling transparently to her skin. She sloshed through the water, her movements awkward. She grabbed the soaked blouse, water cascading from it in rivulets as she lifted it.
It was useless to put on damp, so she simply held it, a dripping prize, as she climbed out. The damp white Lehenga was plastered to her hips and butt, leaving little to the imagination, outlining the cleft of her buttocks and the lace of her panties beneath.
"You are doing very well, Kamini," Ali called out, his voice strained. "The bra is next. Check the rose bushes." She found it draped over a thorny branch, the delicate pink fabric a stark contrast to the violent looking thorns.
She had to reach deep into the bush, careful not to get scratched. The thorns scraped at her arm, a tiny, stinging pain that only heightened the intensity of the moment. She retrieved it and turning her back to the men, struggled to clasp it.
Her damp fingers slipped on the catch. "Click… Finally..." she thought in her heart as the cups enveloped her Melons, lifting and shaping them, the material instantly growing damp from her damp skin.
"Finally, the saree… It is on the other side of that hedge, covering the statue of the goddess." The final stretch... She pushed through a gap in the thick hedge, the branches scraping against her bare midriff and legs and there it was.
Her beautiful crimson saree was draped over a stone statue, covering it like a sacred offering. She approached, her heart thundering. As she pulled the silk away from the cold stone, she heard a noise. "Voices…"
A group of people were walking on a path not twenty feet away, separated only by the thin hedge. Panic seized her. She had nothing on but soaked undergarments. Frozen, she pressed herself against the statue, its rough stone cold against her back. She held her breath.
The voices passed, fading into the distance. She let out a shaky exhale, a giddy, relieved laugh bubbling in her chest. She had not been caught. With frantic, eager hands, she began to drape the saree.
She pleated it with practiced efficiency, tucking it into the waistband of her Lehenga, wrapping it around her body, pulling the pallu over her shoulder. With the final fold in place, she was covered.
She was no longer naked, no longer exposed. She was a woman in a saree, walking in a park. She smoothed down the silk, her hands trembling not from fear now, but from the aftershocks of adrenaline and a deep, humming arousal.
She walked out to the north exit where the four men waited. Their faces were a mix of admiration, lust, and respect. Kondesh looked her up and down, a slow, appraising glance that made her feel naked all over again.
"You did it," he said, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. "I held up my end" she replied, her voice stronger now, laced with the power of her success. "Now you will help me? The revenge..? You will ruin them?"
"We will discuss the specifics," he nodded.
"But first, a second task for you to secure the job for you... The one your husband will not question."
"What is it?" she asked, though a part of her already knew it would test her even further. They took her to the apartment building from before and her second task was given to her which is once again a naked daring adventure.
The metal doors of the elevator slid shut with a soft thump, sealing her in a cage of garish, fluorescent light. Kamini stood naked, her skin prickling in the chilled air, the hum of the machinery a stark contrast to the frantic drumming in her chest.
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