⚠️ 18+ only. Tonight isn’t about heat — it’s about rules, power, and the kind of consent that feels like temptation.

Chapter 13 steps into the locked room where Malik is named, “Champa” is chosen, and surrender finally becomes intentional.

Ready to see how dominance becomes irresistible when it follows rules? 😈🔥💋

The door was locked. Curtains drawn. The world outside was silenced as if even the wind dared not intrude.

Naina knelt on the soft Kashmiri rug, dressed in only a thin red saree draped loosely—his instruction.

She closed her eyes, letting anticipation coil low and tight in her belly.

Vikram sat in his armchair, eyes steady, holding an old leather notebook.

Tonight was different—calmer, heavier, deliberate.

Tonight felt like something sacred.

Not for heat.

But education.

“Before we go further,” he said, voice firm yet calm, “you need to know the rules.”

She blinked, heart racing. “Rules?” She asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension, with her voice barely steady.

“Yes, our rules. In this room, I will lead. You will follow. But only because you choose to.”

“And if I don’t want to?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

Vikram smiled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Then we stop here," he replied, closing the notebook. “Always.”

Carefully placing the notebook in her lap, letting the leather brush her thighs,, he opened to the first page. Words written in bold Hindi and, beneath, in English.

“Pick one,” he said. “Something simple," he said, brushing her hair back from her face. "Choose a word that makes you feel safe and in control," he added softly, his gaze unwavering.

She thought. Then whispered, “Champa.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Vikram's lips as he nodded in approval. "Champa it is," he said, his voice gentle. He smiled faintly. “A flower. That suits you.”

"Remember, this word is your power." With a reassuring pat on her head.

She closed her eyes and felt a surge of confidence.

He took the notebook back and flipped the page.

She nodded, breath shaking. “So you'll say bad things, but it's not real?” Vikram nodded, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Exactly. It's all part of the game, nothing more." He again rubbed her head gently, a small smile playing on his lips.

"And if you don't like it, you have your safe word." She smiled back, feeling reassured by his words. "I trust you," she whispered.

"And in this room when we play, you are not my wife, and I am not your husband." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We are simply two people exploring our desires and fantasies together."

"What will I call you then, Sarkar, as before?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“You may call me Malik when we play. Master. But outside, I’m your husband.”

Her breath caught.

“Malik!” she asked softly.

She looked up, uncertain. “And… punishment?” she hesitates but asks, her voice barely a whisper.

He leaned forward and brushed a finger down her cheek.

“Only if you disobey in play. And even then, only what you can handle. You’ll tell me. I’ll listen.”

“And if I like it?” She leaned forward, her eyes searching his.

He smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then we'll explore that too, together," he replied, his voice low and intimate.

"Remember, this is all about trust and communication," he added, his tone gentle but firm. She nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she realized they were in this together.

He stood. Circled her slowly like a predator admiring his prey.

“You’re not weak when you submit,” he said. “You’re powerful enough to give me control. Naina”

Then, he whispered into her ear as he pulled her hair gently, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Say it. I submit to you, Malik.”

Her lips trembled, eyes staring up at him with a mixture of fear and desire. The scent of sandalwood coming off him was intoxicating, making her heart race even faster.

But she said it.

“I submit to you… Malik.”

He groaned, deep and possessive, as the lamp flickered, casting shadows on the walls that seemed to dance in approval of her surrender.

His grip tightened on her hair, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a rush of heat through her veins.

The game had begun.

Ohhh, my naughty sinners…… did you feel that shift?
Tonight wasn’t about heat — it was about power chosen, not taken.
Naina picking “Champa,” calling him Malik, kneeling because she wanted to?
That’s surrender turning into strength.

And remember—
true dominance comes with rules.
That’s why it burns slow… and hits deep.

Tell me—
when she whispered, “I submit to you, Malik,”
did your pulse betray you?

Good.
Because this was just the initiation.

Chapter 14?
The rules are set.
Now the real sin begins. 😏🔥💋