Prachi's Pov

Ever since Taalika’s wedding, this empty flat feels like it’s closing in on me.

I’ve spent my whole childhood and life with her. She is not just my best friend, but my beloved sister in every way that mattered.

And now that she’s gone, there’s this hollow ache…but it doesn't mean I am not happy for her. I’m truly happy for her, because who would have thought she’d marry the Sufiyan. The Great Sufiyan. Her ideal. The man we both admired once is now my best friend's husband. So, yes I am happy.

I came straight to Bangalore from Delhi after the wedding instead of going home… but now, I can’t seem to settle into anything. Not work, not home.

If it wasn’t for those late-night conversations with that stranger, I think I would’ve gone insane by now.

You’re probably wondering, what stranger?

Well… that’s my little secret. A secret no one knows.

Not even Taalika.

I’ve always had desires I wanted to explore, but we all know how the world looks at a woman like that.

Everyone wants the innocent, “good girl” type and the moment a woman admits to having desires, they’re quick to slap the “whore” label on her without a second thought.

On top of that, my best friend, my only real friend, was so genuinely sweet and innocent that I never dared share this side of myself with her.

I was terrified she might see me differently… or worse, that I might lose her. Forever.

And losing Taalika? That wasn’t an option.

So I hid that part of me. Never tried to explore. Never had a boyfriend.

But curiosity… oh, it’s always been there and I wanted to taste it. Just once.

A year ago, I stumbled upon it, purely by accident.

A random night, scrolling endlessly on my phone. Sleepless. Restless in ways I didn’t want to admit. My body was humming with a need I’d been ignoring for far too long. My mind whispered questions I’d never dared speak aloud and that's when I found it in the deepest and darkest part of the internet.

The description caught my eye:

“A place to speak your desires without judgment. No faces. No names. Just texts to explore your deepest, darkest fantasies. Safe. Hidden. Masked. Sexting App.”

It felt like slipping into another skin and instantly made an account.

I made a profile without a picture, without my real name. I called myself WhisperOfYes because… I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have the courage to scream.

And then… there was him. That’s where I found him.

NoSafeWords.

From the very first message, he didn’t feel like a creep which on an app like this, was rare and maybe that's the reason I haven't talked to anyone else except him since I am using that app.

Even in a place made for filth, he had the aura of a gentleman.

He respected my comfort, never said anything that would make me uneasy.

It didn’t take him long to figure out I was new to all of this and since that night, we’ve spoken almost every night.

Even in the filthiest moments, he carries a certain restraint… a strange kind of decency that pulls me back to him, again and again.

Talking to him feels… good. Too good.

The stranger with the deep, dangerous words that curled into my spine and pulled me closer with every conversation. He never asked who I was. He just listened.

And when he spoke, it was like every word pressed against my skin, dragging heat where I didn’t even know I needed it.

He asked things no one else had asked me before, not crude, not careless, but with a kind of quiet command that made my knees feel weak. I’d find myself gripping the phone tighter, holding my breath as if he could hear the way my heart raced.

Every night, it got harder to stop.

Harder to come back to the real world where I was just Prachi, good, careful, predictable Prachi.

Until one night… everything changed.

It had been days since I’d spoken to the stranger. He hadn’t come online, and I hadn’t messaged.

Then one night, I woke up suddenly, my thighs pressed together, a strange ache pulsing between them.

Despite the air conditioner humming softly, there was a heat that had nothing to do with the weather.

My core throbbed, restless… like there was another heartbeat between my legs, pounding in need.

Slowly, I slid my fingers through the slit of my long satin gown, until they rested against my bare, needy core.

Ever since Taalika’s wedding, and since I’ve been living alone here, I’ve started exploring my curiosity in ways I’d never dared before.

I don’t sleep in pajamas or night suits anymore. Now, I wear silk nighties. Comfortable… sensual… and without bra or panties.

Tonight, I was in one of those back silk nighty, thin straps slipping off my shoulders, the cool satin brushing against my skin as my fingers traced lower, lower… touching myself where no one else had ever touched me.

Not even me, not like this.

I let my fingertips stroke lightly over the soft folds, teasing myself with feather touches until my breath began to quicken.

I closed my eyes… imagining it wasn’t my hand.

I imagined him.

The stranger.

NoSafeWords.

I imagined it's his lips eating me and whispering filthy words.

In my mind, he was kneeling between my thighs, his warm breath ghosting over my sensitive skin, his lips so close I could almost feel them.

The first kiss soft, lingering, right over my slit made my back arch in the dark.

Then another, deeper, wetter, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path… parting me, tasting me.

A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, my hips lifting into the imagined pressure.

My fingers moved faster now, circling my clit that desperate ache as I pictured him gripping my thighs, holding me wide open, his mouth hungry and relentless.

My body trembled, the tension building unbearably. My fingers started moving in speed now, until it burst in a rush of heat and shudders that left me breathless, sprawled across the sheets… satin clinging to my damp skin.

God! My first ever orgasm and that too for a man I don't even know how he looks or sounds.

What will happen if I know how he sounds or how his touch feels?

What is happening to me?

Why am I being pulled more and more toward this nameless stranger?

The next morning, I buried myself in work, keeping busy somehow.

But the moment I got home, I kept glancing at my phone, picking it up again and again, waiting for just one text from him.

I was just about to put it down and sleep in disappointment, thinking he wouldn’t message tonight either… when a notification lit up the screen.

It was him.

He was asking if I was still awake or had already fallen asleep.

I replied instantly, asking if he was busy and if maybe, he had forgotten about me.

His answer came quickly that he’d just been caught up with work and then… I told him what I had done last night.

WhisperOfYes: I touched myself last night. I woke up with aching between my legs… and I did it.

His reply came instantly.

NoSafeWords: Tell me exactly what you were wearing and what you did after you woke up wet.

I gulped down my nervousness and typed but my hands were shaking slightly.

WhisperOfYes: A long black satin nightgown….. No panties…. And after I woke up? I slid my fingers down… slow… imagining it was your mouth instead… I moaned your name… even though I don’t know it.

I typed somehow, so scared thinking about how he will react but not in my dreams I had imagined his this reaction,

NoSafeWords: I want to see you. Tonight. Just your voice. Nothing else. No names. No faces. Just the sound of you falling apart for me.

I froze.

My breath caught in my throat. My pulse quickened, hands started getting sweaty.

He wants to talk to me via the app's voice feature.

I don't know what to say because I am unsure about that. Am I ready for this or not?

I don't know.

Do I want this?

Yes!

But is it the right time?

I don't know.

But Prachi if you really want to explore your desires then you have to take another step. So gathering all my courage I sent the next text very confidently.

I’ve already sent that message in haste, but I don’t know what I will or won’t do tonight… because my heart is still drowning in a strange turmoil.

WhisperOfYes: Midnight. You call. And I’ll fall. 

His reply came instantly.

NoSafeWords: I promise, without even touching you, I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life just with my voice.

I clenched my thighs after reading his reply.

WhisperOfYes: You shouldn’t affect me this much.

NoSafeWords: I haven’t even touched you.

After that, I didn’t send him another message because I had nothing left to say, just this strange tug-of-war inside me.

I wanted it.

But I was also afraid and that fear… it won over my desire.

So, even though I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to use the app’s voice feature to call him that night.

When his call came through, I didn’t have the courage to answer.

I was scared… scared that I might open myself up completely, lay all my emotions bare before him and at the end of the day, he was still just… a stranger.

But then I reminded myself, wasn’t that the whole point of the app?

To explore our fantasies without fear or judgment?

Still… somehow, “Prachi” took over “WhisperOfYes” that night.

I didn’t talk to him, even though I knew he’d be waiting for me. He just wanted to hear my voice… to make my imagination real.

But I didn’t go.

For a moment, I almost dialed, thinking maybe he was awake, hoping I’d call.

But I couldn’t.

I was too close to the edge. Too close to letting my voice tell him everything, my fears, my fantasies, my hunger.

The entire night I sat awake in restless frustration and self-anger, staring at that app on my phone… until an advertisement popped up.

Velvet Sins.

A club where people came to fulfill their deepest desires. The same owner had created this app.

Every six months, they hosted the biggest, most exclusive party, only for members and VIPs.

Masks. No names. No faces. Just pleasure. You could do anything, with anyone.

I shut my phone, trying to keep my emotions under control.

Temptation is a dangerous thing… and right now, I had two temptations fighting for me.

But the next morning, even at the office, all I could think about was Velvet Sins.

How would it feel to be watched and desired in a place full of strangers?

That evening, back home, I found myself opening the same section of the app where I could buy an entry ticket.

I thought about it… over and over… until I reached a decision.

If I wanted to fulfill my desires, if I wanted to truly explore myself. I had to take off the mask of “Good Prachi” and put on a real mask instead… to become WhisperOfYes for one night, hiding my face but unleashing everything else.

I was tired of pretending to be good.

Just once… I wanted to set myself free from those chains. Just once… I wanted to be watched.

I wanted to be touched without being asked. I wanted my moans to echo off velvet walls. I wanted to be someone else for a night.

I didn’t know where I’d find the courage.

Maybe at Velvet Sins.

And so, I did it.

I registered for tomorrow night’s party, booked my stay in Mumbai, and made all the arrangements because that's where the club is.

Then, I messaged NoSafeWords, apologizing for last night.

Thankfully, he wasn’t angry, he understood my state of mind.

I told him what I had done… and what I was going to do tomorrow.

WhisperOfYes: I want to wear a mask and not be ‘the good girl’ anymore. I want hands. Tongues. Eyes. But I don’t want to be judged for it.

As always, he gave me courage to move forward.

NoSafeWords: Then go. Find that version of you. Let her out.

WhisperOfYes: I already booked it. For tomorrow night.

He was a little surprised, but he encouraged me.

I told him that before I went tomorrow, I wanted to talk to him. I needed his words in my head, in case I lost my nerve.

WhisperOfYes: I’m scared. But I want to do it. Will you… talk to me before I go? I just… need your words in my head if I chicken out.

His reply was just one text:

NoSafeWords: I’ll be there.

I couldn’t sleep the whole night. I don’t know if it was fear, excitement, nervousness… or something else entirely.

The next morning, I had an early flight.

As soon as I landed in Mumbai, the first thing I did was buy myself a sexy red dress.

Then I returned to my hotel and tried to rest a little.

I woke up late in the afternoon, feeling as though the day had been stolen from me. A few hours of restless sleep had done little to calm the restless itch beneath my skin. But tonight… Tonight I had somewhere to be.

Velvet Sins.

I stood in front of the mirror, fingers trailing over the silk of the dress I am wearing. Red, the fabric slinky and sinful, dipping deep in the front to expose the soft curve of my cleavage. The slit on my thigh felt almost obscene. One wrong move and it would betray everything I kept hidden.

I smoothed the fabric again, as if that would calm the nervous thud in my chest. The silk was cool, but my skin underneath burned. It's tight where it needs to be. Soft where it shouldn’t.

The cool fabric moulds my body as if it already knew my sins. My hands lingered at the neckline and paused at the little mole that rested right in the center of my cleavage, almost as if I was testing my own nerve.

The mask came last. Jet-black lace, delicate yet defiant, veiling my eyes and upper cheeks. Enough to hide… yet designed to make someone want to see what lay beneath.

I completed my look with a darkest shade of red lipstick.

A final look in the mirror told me I was no longer Prachi, the woman who spent her mornings answering emails and making polite conversation. No! I was someone else now. Someone who could walk into a place like Velvet Sins without flinching.

On the way, I texted him, NoSafeWords. Just a teasing, half-nervous line. No reply. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he didn’t care.

When I stepped out of the car, the neon sign above the club seemed to pulse with the low hum of temptation. The bass from inside vibrated through the ground and into my bones, each beat tugging me closer. The bouncer’s eyes swept over me once, slowly, and then he stepped aside without a word before pulling aside the velvet rope.

My heels clicked softly against the polished black tile. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back. This wasn’t who I was. I was a daughter, a sister, a careful woman raised with rules and god-fearing decency.

And yet… I walked in.

Inside, the air was warm, thick with the scent of spiced wine, sweat, and something darker, desire. The lighting was low, amber-red, turning shadows into something alive. Velvet drapes hung from the ceiling like decadent secrets, and every corner whispered possibilities.

I felt out of place but I also felt free.

Everywhere I looked… There was sex.

A couple in masks danced slowly, their hips grinding in time with the bass until his hand slid up her dress and she didn’t stop him. Two women in the corner, one seated, the other kneeling between her thighs, completely absorbed in each other. A man pressed against a wall, a masked stranger riding him without shame.

The music wasn’t loud, it was thick. Deep bass that you didn’t just hear, you felt in your chest, in your stomach, low in your body.

Eyes followed me. Hungry, curious, some predatory. Strangers stared at the slit in my dress, at the neckline, at my mouth. My fingers tightened around my clutch, trying to anchor myself.

‘What are you doing here, Prachi?’ My subconscious screams in fear after looking at my surroundings.

I moved through the haze, searching for… I didn’t even know what. Then a touch on my arm froze me.

It wasn’t gentle.

I turned, a tall man in a dark suit, mask covering half his face. His grin was too wide. His gaze slid over me like I was already undressed.

“Don’t be shy,” he murmured, stepping closer.

 His hand dipped lower than it should’ve, and terrified I stepped back, my voice caught in my throat as my back hit a darkest corner of the club where no one even could see me or help me if that man even tried to do something unspeakable to me.

Even no one would pay any heed to my screams for help here.

Prachi what have you done?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, panic kicking in. “I….I made a mistake coming here…” My voice broke when my back hit a wall, cold, hard, in one of the darker corners. His hand slid lower, grazing the top of my thigh, fingers about to push higher.

My pulse roared in my ears. Panic clawed up my throat. No one here would help me. No one would even care.

The man didn’t care, his hand drifting dangerously close, fingers grazing the top of my thigh, ready to slide higher and with each passing moment I am dying here.

I was on the verge of breaking down cursing myself on my stupidity when a deep voice came from behind that man.

“She’s with me,” that voice low, rough and I froze hearing that voice.

I know this voice and he shouldn't be here.

Or I shouldn't be here.

Now I am trembling in fear of something deeper that I can't put into words.

The man in front of me turned, irritation flickering but then his expression changed. He looked past me, saw whoever stood there, and without a word, backed off and melted into the crowd.

My breathing was unsteady as I looked up.

He was watching the man leave, tall, broad shoulders, black shirt open just enough to show skin. His presence wasn’t just commanding… It was consuming.

And then he looked at me. I didn’t even have time to turn away.

“How are you, Whisper….”

My stomach dropped. The words hit harder than the bass.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn't think.

No way he is NoSafeWords and he even recognised me. God! Why did I come here?

I was trying to come out of the shock. Making up my mind how to run out of here without being noticed by him but his next words turned my world upside down.

“Prachi?” he whispered, stunned. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

How the hell he recognised me in this fucking mask?

He knows both of me. The part I have been keeping as a secret too.

No! No!

It wasn’t supposed to be him.

It wasn’t supposed to be anyone I knew. That was the whole point.

Except he wasn’t a stranger at all.

He was Dev.

And now… he knows.

He knows that I am not only WhisperOfYes but also Prachi. The sweet innocent Prachi what he used to think of me but in reality I have someone else hidden behind that innocence.

I was too stunned to even move. My body was shaking so badly.

Should I thank God for saving me from that creep or should I cry out on my fate to turn out Dev to be NoSafeWords.

The glass slipped from his hand and that shatter brought us both out of our shock.

I flinched, startled by the sound of glass and his voice, both.

The weight of my secret unraveling right in front of him made my heart raced. I hadn’t meant to be seen by someone familiar. Not here. Certainly not by Dev.

What if he told Sufiyan and Sufiyan told Talli about it? No! I can't lose my best friend because of this stupid temptation.

I wanted to stay anonymous. Hidden behind that beautiful mask and my growing hunger for something forbidden.

But now… the one stranger with whom I used to feel so good to share my desires turned out to be someone far too familiar.

I have never thought that at a place like Velvet Sin. The club people whispered about. Masks, shadows, strangers. A place where women could be looked at without shame, touched without fear if they wanted to be turned out to be my biggest nightmare.

I don't give a damn what he is doing here but he shouldn't have seen me here. Not like this.

I thought maybe, hidden behind this mask, I could finally see what I’d been talking about with NoSafeWords all this time.

The stranger from my calls. The voice in my ear. The man I’d been imagining turned out to be none other than Dev Mehra.

Now I understand why NoSafeWords didn't reply to my text and what his last text “I'll be there.” actually means.

That means he was here to find me and now he did.

If my heart beats any louder, the whole club will hear it.

I can still feel his eyes on me, sharp, heated, burning through the thin fabric of my dress. Dev. Here. Of all people.

His eyes didn’t leave mine. Not for a heartbeat and then his hand closed around my wrist.

Warm. Firm. Unyielding.

Before I could even find my voice to protest, he was pulling me through the crowd. Not toward the exit, no, deeper inside the club.

“Dev!” I managed, but it came out more like a gasp than a protest. My heels clicked over the slick floor as I stumbled to keep up, my pulse a frantic drum in my ears.

Where is he taking me?

The music seemed to grow thicker, heavier, the bass vibrating through my ribs as we passed velvet-draped alcoves and shadowed bodies locked together in ways that made heat creep up my neck. A woman moaned somewhere to our left, and I caught a blur of bare skin and tangled limbs. My throat tightened.

He didn’t slow.

The further we went, the darker it became. The flashing red light from the dance floor faded, replaced by the warm, low flicker of sconces along a narrow corridor. Every step felt like I was being pulled into another world, one I had flirted with from the safety of a screen, but never dared step into for real.

At the end of the hall stood a man built like a wall, his suit stretched over broad shoulders, a black earpiece tucked into his ear. A bouncer.

Dev leaned in just enough for me to hear his voice over the music, low, steady, that same voice that had once whispered filth into my ear from miles away.

“Scarlet Velvet.”

The bouncer nodded once, glanced at me, then stepped aside.

A door appeared from the shadows. Heavy, dark wood, with no handle on the outside. Dev reached for it, pushed it open, and ushered me inside without releasing my wrist.

Was that some kind of cord word? I don't know.

The moment the door shut behind us, the sound of the club dulled to a muted throb. The lock clicked, sharp and final.

I turned to face him, my pulse wild in my throat. The room was dimly lit, the glow from a single red lamp spilling over plush velvet seating and a low glass table. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and something richer, like the aftertaste of good whiskey and warm skin.

Our faces are still covered with masks yet those masks feel as useless as my dress trying to hide something from his predatory gaze.

He still hadn’t spoken.

I still hadn’t breathed.

The reality of where I was, alone, masked, trapped in a private room with Dev, pressed in on me. Every inch of my body was aware of his presence, of how close he stood, of the quiet intensity rolling off him.

I didn’t know if I was more afraid of what he was going to say or all the fact of all those filthy desires he was sharing with me since last year. What if he started making them true?