Chapter 2

A week later, your pussy still aches with the sweet pain of that night. Every time you shift in your seat, a dull throb reminds you of Ansh's brutal pace and the strangers' rough hands. Tonight, you slip into a pink ghagra, the soft fabric brushing against your sensitive skin. You apply your makeup carefully, the ritual soothing your nerves as you prepare for your cousin's wedding. The mirror shows a girl transformed – the demure daughter your father expects, not the trembling slut Ansh molded in that alley. You smooth the sequined skirt, your fingers lingering on your bare midriff where the choli ends. The exposed skin feels electric, vulnerable.