"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched the edge of her saree, the silk slipping through her fingers like water. "Take me instead. Just… just let him go."The demon tilted his head, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dimly lit room. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing sharp, glistening teeth. "You would trade your soul for his? A mother’s love is truly… fascinating." He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of incense and something darker, more primal.She swallowed hard, her throat dry. Her son lay unconscious on the floor, his chest rising and falling faintly. She couldn’t lose him. Not after everything they’d been through. Not after the sacrifices she’d made to keep him safe. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the pallu of her saree, the fabric slipping off her shoulder. The blouse beneath clung to her skin, damp with sweat."I’ll do anything," she said, her voice firmer now, though her heart pounded in her chest. "Anything you want."The demon’s smirk widened, and he reached out, his clawed fingers brushing against her cheek. She flinched but didn’t pull away. "Anything?" he purred, his voice low and velvety. "You don’t even know what I desire."She closed her eyes, forcing herself to stay still as his hand trailed down her neck, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "I don’t care," she lied, her voice barely audible. "Just… just let him live."---It had started hours earlier, though it felt like a lifetime ago. She’d been in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when the air had shifted. The candles flickered, and the temperature dropped suddenly, sending a chill through the room. She’d turned, her heart skipping a beat, and there he was—the demon.He’d appeared out of nowhere, his presence filling the small space with an oppressive energy. Her son had been in the living room, studying for his exams, oblivious to the danger. She’d tried to scream, to warn him, but no sound came out. The demon had simply raised a hand, and her son had collapsed, his body crumpling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut."Your son’s soul is mine," the demon had said, his voice echoing in the silence. "But perhaps… we can make a deal."She’d begged, pleaded, offered everything she had—money, jewels, even her own life. But the demon had only laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her skin crawl. "I don’t want your trinkets," he’d said, his eyes raking over her. "I want you."---Now, standing before him, she felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. His hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her collarbone before slipping beneath the edge of her blouse. She gasped, her breath hitching as his fingers brushed against her skin. The fabric of her saree felt suffocating suddenly, too tight, too heavy."Undress," he commanded, his voice soft but firm.Her hands shook as she reached for the pallu, unwinding the fabric from her shoulder. The saree pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her blouse and petticoat. The air felt cool against her bare arms, but it did nothing to ease the heat building inside her.The demon’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze lingering on the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. "Beautiful," he murmured, stepping closer. His hands found her waist, pulling her against him. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her blouse, and it made her head spin."Please," she whispered again, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking for anymore. Her hands rested on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.The demon leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "You’re mine now," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Every inch of you."His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, undoing them one by one with agonizing slowness. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as the fabric fell open, revealing the delicate lace of her bra beneath. His fingers traced the edge of the lace, sending a jolt of electricity through her."You’re trembling," he observed, his voice tinged with amusement. "Are you afraid?"She shook her head, though it was a lie. She was terrified—of him, of what he might do, of what she was allowing him to do. But more than that, she was afraid of what she might feel if this went any further.The demon’s lips found hers then, cutting off any further thought. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and she melted into it despite herself. Her hands tangled in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. She could feel the heat building between them, a fire threatening to consume them both.When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes burned into hers, and she knew there was no turning back now."Your son will live," he said, his voice rough with desire. "But you… you belong to me."She nodded, unable to speak as his hands moved to the waistband of her petticoat…

A mother, desperate to save her son from a demon, offers her soul in exchange. The demon, intrigued, demands her to undress and ultimately claims her. The demon agrees to spare her son but declares that she now belongs to him.

"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched the edge of her saree, the silk slipping through her fingers like water. "Take me instead. Just… just let him go."

The demon tilted his head, his crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dimly lit room. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing sharp, glistening teeth. *"You would trade your soul for his? A mother’s love is truly… fascinating."* He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of incense and something darker, more primal.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. Her son lay unconscious on the floor, his chest rising and falling faintly. She couldn’t lose him. Not after everything they’d been through. Not after the sacrifices she’d made to keep him safe. Her hands trembled as she adjusted the pallu of her saree, the fabric slipping off her shoulder. The blouse beneath clung to her skin, damp with sweat.

"I’ll do anything," she said, her voice firmer now, though her heart pounded in her chest. "Anything you want."

The demon’s smirk widened, and he reached out, his clawed fingers brushing against her cheek. She flinched but didn’t pull away. *"Anything?"* he purred, his voice low and velvety. "You don’t even know what I desire."

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to stay still as his hand trailed down her neck, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "I don’t care," she lied, her voice barely audible. "Just… just let him live."

---

It had started hours earlier, though it felt like a lifetime ago. She’d been in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when the air had shifted. The candles flickered, and the temperature dropped suddenly, sending a chill through the room. She’d turned, her heart skipping a beat, and there he was—the demon.

He’d appeared out of nowhere, his presence filling the small space with an oppressive energy. Her son had been in the living room, studying for his exams, oblivious to the danger. She’d tried to scream, to warn him, but no sound came out. The demon had simply raised a hand, and her son had collapsed, his body crumpling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Your son’s soul is mine," the demon had said, his voice echoing in the silence. "But perhaps… we can make a deal."

She’d begged, pleaded, offered everything she had—money, jewels, even her own life. But the demon had only laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her skin crawl. *"I don’t want your trinkets,"* he’d said, his eyes raking over her. *"I want you."*

---

Now, standing before him, she felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. His hand moved lower, tracing the curve of her collarbone before slipping beneath the edge of her blouse. She gasped, her breath hitching as his fingers brushed against her skin. The fabric of her saree felt suffocating suddenly, too tight, too heavy.

"Undress," he commanded, his voice soft but firm.

Her hands shook as she reached for the pallu, unwinding the fabric from her shoulder. The saree pooled at her feet, leaving her in just her blouse and petticoat. The air felt cool against her bare arms, but it did nothing to ease the heat building inside her.

The demon’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze lingering on the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. *"Beautiful,"* he murmured, stepping closer. His hands found her waist, pulling her against him. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of her blouse, and it made her head spin.

"Please," she whispered again, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking for anymore. Her hands rested on his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

The demon leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. *"You’re mine now,"* he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Every inch of you."

His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, undoing them one by one with agonizing slowness. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as the fabric fell open, revealing the delicate lace of her bra beneath. His fingers traced the edge of the lace, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"You’re trembling," he observed, his voice tinged with amusement. *"Are you afraid?"*

She shook her head, though it was a lie. She was terrified—of him, of what he might do, of what she was allowing him to do. But more than that, she was afraid of what she might feel if this went any further.

The demon’s lips found hers then, cutting off any further thought. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and she melted into it despite herself. Her hands tangled in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. She could feel the heat building between them, a fire threatening to consume them both.

When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes burned into hers, and she knew there was no turning back now.

"Your son will live," he said, his voice rough with desire. "But you… you belong to me."

She nodded, unable to speak as his hands moved to the waistband of her petticoat…

A shy, promiscuous Indian wife, afflicted with sialorrhea, is forced to make a desperate pact with a demon to save her son's soul. She must trade her body and submit to the demon's dark desires in exchange for her son's life, exploring themes of sacrifice, forbidden lust, and the power of maternal love. The narrative delves into the wife's internal struggle and her eventual surrender to the demon's demands, as she navigates the complex dynamics of their encounter.

Her Soul's Price

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