Bondita is supposed to leave after two days and once again Anirudh was drugged by ksj.

Anirudh, like a storm, staggered into the room, apparently under the influence of the devil's juice. Yet, it wasn't libations that had him in their grip, but rather a spiked potion, a venomous gift from our dear, dear ksj. Clasping her pallu as if it were his lifeline, he tugged at it with a force that would put Hercules to shame.

Her pallu, her shield of modesty, yielded under his grip, leaving a merciless mark on her delicate collarbone. This was an unforeseen consequence of his action, as the pin holding her pallu in place gave way, creating a wound on her slender neck. Blood, the life-giving river, began to flow from the wound, staining her porcelain skin.

Closer Anirudh drew, resting his head against her neck like a weary traveler seeking solace. Seeing the blood, a Cheshire cat grin split his face. Rubbing his cheek against her wound, he was the embodiment of a moth drawn to a flame. The contact sent a scream of pain tearing from Bondita's lips, echoing through the room like the wail of a banshee.

Anirudh, in an act of cruel irony, pinned her to the wall and silenced her cries with his hand. But he didn't just quiet her, his nails dug into her rosy cheeks, forging a bloody scar on their surface. The action was as sharp and sudden as a snakebite, causing tears to spill from her eyes.

In a perverse act of intimacy, he drank her tears, vessels of sorrow that he himself had filled. Tearing away the remainder of her saree, he left her standing in a state of vulnerability that cut deeper than any knife.

The situation, a cruel caricature of their relationship, forced her to shut her eyes, burdened by more than just pain and discomfort.

Anirudh was the sun to her earth, her barrister babu, her sakha babu, rakshas babu, and her pati babu, yet this intimacy was as foreign as a language she'd never spoken.

Bondita, a connoisseur of the written word's sensual dance, found herself in the eye of a storm of emotions.

In this scenario, Anirudh was both the puppeteer and the puppet, choreographing a dance of dominance and submission. The story of their encounter was an allegory for the power dynamics in their relationship, a stark antithesis of the love that should have existed between them.

Now she stood there, her blouse and skirt the only remnants of her attire. Anirudh, like a raging storm, moved towards her, his teeth sinking into her ear as if it were a ripe fruit.

Bondita's scream echoed through the house, a sound that could shatter glass. Anirudh, driven by a fury that could rival a wildfire, headbutted Bondita against the wall. Her world spun like a top, her equilibrium shattered.

Yet, she held her ground, her form steady as a mountain. Anirudh, like a predator, unzipped her blouse.

Bondita's screams were like a symphony of terror, echoing through the room. She was now in her black lace bra, a garment that matched her fiery spirit. He tore it apart, discarding it like a piece of trash. He seized her, his hands roaming over her like a tempest, his mouth claiming her as if it were his right. Bondita, like a deer caught in the headlights, felt fear coursing through her veins. Anirudh, like a beast, sucked her breast as if it were his nourishment.

His teeth grazed her skin, a sensation as sharp as a knife. He continued his assault, his actions as relentless as a tidal wave.

Bondita, like a trapped bird, could only squawk and hiss in pain. Anirudh, like a predator, unzipped her skirt. She was left in her underwear, a sight that made her heart sink.

She pleaded, her words as hollow as an echo in an empty room. She offered to die for him, a promise as empty as a hollow shell. But perhaps, it was never meant to be, so after a series of pleas for mercy, she surrendered.

Anirudh smirked, a smile as chilling as a winter's breeze. Even subconsciously, he felt a pang in his heart. He held her, his grip as tight as a vice, his nails digging into her skin.

Bondita, like a wounded animal, could only whimper in pain. Anirudh, like a wolf, removed her panty and replaced it with himself. Though after some time, she found some pleasure, but pain still reigned supreme.

This continued till the break of dawn, a time as dark as the events unfolding. By morning, she was left in a state of despair, her body aching, her mind blank with sorrow.

As the sun unfurled its golden fingers across the sky, Bondita lay there - a once vibrant canvas now marred by the cruel brushstrokes of pain and passion.

Scars and bruises painted her story, a tale of agony and ecstasy dancing in a ballet of pleasure and pain on the stage of her body.

The deep wound on her collarbone, a cruel signature left by Anirudh's brutal grip on her pallu, served as a violent symbol of the storm that had engulfed them both. A crimson stain of blood, a violent smear on the ivory canvas of her skin, persisted.

Her cheeks, once smooth as silk, now bore the violent etchings of Anirudh's grasp. Tears had carved their riverbeds, leaving behind dark smudges that followed the contours of her eyes.

Bondita's once delicate features were now a distorted map of agony, her soul swallowed by a relentless darkness.Her blouse, tattered and forgotten, lay on the floor - a stark juxtaposition to the black undergarment that had been torn from her like a cruel joke.

Her skirt, hanging lifelessly, left her bare and susceptible - a stark contrast to the strength and independence she once radiated.Anirudh, a dark sentinel, towered over her. Her pleas for mercy hung in the air, a jarring irony as she lay there bare and vulnerable.

Yet Anirudh was unyielding, driven by an insatiable hunger that defied reason or logic. His heart called for her, but his body demanded a more primal satisfaction. As Anirudh continued his assault, Bondita felt like she was being swallowed by a ferocious inferno, every touch igniting sparks along her skin.

In that moment, Bondita realized she was not merely a puppet of circumstance but a willing player in this perverse waltz of desire and debauchery. She had chosen to be here, to surrender herself to Anirudh's will. In doing so, she had transcended her humanity, becoming an untamed creature that defied logic and reason. As the sun continued its relentless ascent, Bondita lay battered and broken, knowing this was just the prologue of their twisted odyssey - an adventure that would lead them into uncharted territories. And as she lay in Anirudh's arms, she couldn't help but wonder about the hidden secrets within the labyrinth of their souls - secrets that could either rip them apart or bind them closer than ever before.

Because to this useless writer they were not Ram And Sita.

Instead they were Lakshman and Urmila.

He sacrificed her for his family and she sacrificed herself for him.

Hey darlings
How are you all?
I hope you are all fine. And don't lure me to update cause next update will definitely be on 14 January (special occasion batao)

Though I have completed the entire chapter and it has the best plot twist in it and it has been written with a song in it. Guesses please

Until I meet you all in the next part
Aahana
Your author