The final day of Priya’s secret adventures dawned hot and humid. She told her family she was going to the old pottery kiln area on the village outskirts to collect some handmade clay lamps for the upcoming festival. The place was a cluster of abandoned kilns and drying sheds where the village potter worked alone. No one ever went there in the afternoon heat. To the entire gaon, Priya remained the ultimate masoom ladki — shy, pure, untouched, and the pride of her family.

But Priya was no longer the same. Her body had become a raging volcano of lust. Every hole ached to be filled, her heavy breasts felt swollen, and her mind constantly craved being used like a dirty village whore. She wore a sheer maroon saree with a tight, low-back blouse that shamelessly displayed her deep cleavage and smooth back.