Turmoil

Shortly after Archana gives her consent, Raghav says her getup needs to be adjusted a bit before they can start with the audition rounds. He asks Rosita to take her to a side room and get her ready quickly. I watch uneasily as Archana, looking bewildered, follows Rosita into a small adjacent room and locks the door behind them. After a few minutes, I began to overhear hushed sounds of arguments trickling out of the room. I strain to listen, but couldn’t make out much of what they were bickering about, but it did sound like Archana was putting up resistance towards whatever Rosita was persuading her to do. 

After a few minutes, the door finally slides open and Archana stumbles out like she was being pushed forward by someone from the back. She straightens back up blushing furiously and looks for a moment like she was about to run back inside. And I immediately notice why. Though she was still in the same attire she came in, she looked different – very different.

Her long hair has been let loose behind her, making her face look more sensual. Her facial features have been highlighted with makeup now.  But what made the most difference was the rest of her. The pallu of her peacock blue chiffon saree which was folded in generous wide pleats when she came in has been re-folded into much narrower pleats which now only served to cover a fraction of her torso. And her saree waistline which has been at least at level with her navel when she came in has been pulled down almost 5-6 inches below her navel. Feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of these unfamiliar men she quickly scrambled to conceal as much of her belly as she could with that inadequate pallu and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach to shield it from any inappropriate gazes. But judging by the open mouths and saucer-like eyes of the three men, I was pretty sure they got an eyeful before she managed to conceal herself.

And to be honest, I couldn’t really blame them for staring as I found myself doing the same. With milky skin, captivating brown eyes, a perfect nose and rosy cheeks, she was an effortlessly beautiful woman as it is. Now with the added sensuality of the provocative way she was wearing her saree, she looked downright irresistible.

Yet, her most striking feature was something that was not always in plain sight. It was something she kept very private to herself. Something as her husband only I was privy to viewing and enjoying. I may probably sound a bit biased when I say this, but my wife has hands down the most gorgeous and sensual belly in the whole world. The claim might sound a bit outlandish when said like that but if even freaking Raghavendra Rao who has worked with the best navel beauties in the entire Indian film industry through the generations was looking as entranced as he was right now after having caught just a glimpse of her navel, you know I am not that far off from the truth. Her deep round navel was like a hypnotic vortex that drew all attention toward it. One glance was enough to make the pulse of any testosterone-driven man race with desire.

With Rosita’s gentle touch on the small of her back, I watched as Archana made her way to the front of the room, her face flushed and eyes cast downwards, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze.  I couldn’t help but empathize with the uncomfortable position she was in. She wasn’t accustomed to dressing in such a manner for anyone other than me, yet here she was, on display for the visual pleasure of four strangers.

“Wow Sir. We may as well sign her right away. We are not going to find anybody better than her. She is perfect.” exclaims Vamsi – the cameraman, looking at her in awe.  

Raghav sniggers and says “Perhaps. But we still have to record her audition to show our producers so that we can convince them that she is really worth the money we offered her.”

Damn, that was clever.  They were subtly suggesting that while they like her enough already to be offered a contract, she still needs to perform well in this audition in order to secure the promised 40 lakhs.

Archana forces an awkward smile, but I can tell she’s starting to steel herself. “I’ll do my best, sir,” she says.

“Awesome!” Raghav says, leaning forward. “ So, Archana, listen. Since we have already seen you perform dialogues in the previous audition, we won’t be testing that again. With the dialogue-based rounds omitted, we are left just left with dance rounds and a few scenes from the movie script itself. These tests will further confirm whether you have what it takes to perform this role.”

Archana nods seriously. “Got it, sir”

“Great, let’s get started.” Raghav turns to Zakir, who’s been staring at my wife like she’s his next meal. “Zakir, are you ready?”

“Oh yeah,” Zakir drawls, standing up and stretching his arms and legs. He saunters over to Archana, standing way too close to her for my comfort. He looks down at her with a smirk. “I’m always ready, baby. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Archana squirms, clearly uncomfortable with his advances, and I feel a surge of jealousy as I watch him hit on my wife right in front of me.

“As we mentioned earlier, Zakir here is a model and junior artist. He will be playing your male counterpart in the audition. ” Raghav explains.

Archana nods, giving Zakir a tentative smile, and throws a quick worried glance in my direction to gauge my reaction. I quickly force a smile to reassure her and she relaxes, turning her attention back to the front. Though it was just a momentary glance we communicated volumes with it.

Raghav began, “So Archana, I know you’re an accomplished classical dancer. But what we need to see today is how well you can perform as a cinematic dancer. So for this round, we will randomly play you parts of some popular songs. You will have to try and capture the mood and rhythm of the song and dance accordingly while synchronizing with Zakir, who will be your dance partner. “

Archana fidgets and throws a momentary glance at Zakir before looking at Raghav again and nodding. I can sense the apprehension in Archana’s eyes, and I can’t blame her. This is her first audition in front of strangers, and she’s a classical dancer who’s used to more traditional performances.

Raghav continues.  “If you look behind you there is a table laden with a variety of props. Feel free to use any of those.“

I look behind them along with Archana and see the table he was talking about. It was mostly filled with food items like fruits and some other random stuff. Of course.. I slap my forehead. I initially assumed they were there for refreshments. I should have known better. Archana of course looks puzzled, probably wondering how on world she can incorporate them into her performance but remains silent. 

Raghav continues “Now, I won’t be giving you any specific, step-by-step directions for any of the rounds. I want to see for myself what your strengths and capabilities are, and having the freedom to spontaneously adapt will allow you to showcase your skills in the best way possible.”

Archana nods. “Understood sir.”

“Alright then, get ready. I’m about to start playing the music,” Raghav says.

Archana closes her eyes and takes deep, steady breaths. It’s something she always does to calm her nerves and center herself before a performance. Vamsi turns on his camera, and with a press of a button, Raghav starts playing the song.

I recognize the song as soon as I hear its opening music. It was a song called “Manohari” from the popular telugu movie Baahubali. The moment it started, Archana’s whole demeanor changes. She seemed to transform into a whole new person, one filled with grace and poise. With a fluid motion, she lifts her arms up above her head, finally letting the entire expanse of her creamy midriff and alluring navel be seen openly by everyone in the room, and the eyes of the three men immediately get glued to her midriff as though they have been waiting for that very moment. She starts moving with effortless grace, her body responding to the rhythm of the music in perfect sync. She twirled and swayed, her hips gyrating with a sensuality that left no doubt that she was in complete control of her body. Her peacock blue saree flowed around her like a second skin, clinging to her curves in all the right places and accentuating the allure of her exposed midriff and navel.

I found myself getting lost in the sheer sensuality of Archana’s movements. With each step she took, every touch she made, my desire for her grew stronger. It was as if she was bewitching us all with her seductive dance, and I couldn’t help but feel myself being drawn in deeper and deeper. As she walked towards Zakir, his spellbound expression mirrored my own, and my pulse raced with anticipation as she danced around him, touching his chest and brushing his arm with seductive grace. 

Suddenly Zakir’s hand comes up, and gently traces the curve of her right cheek with the back of his fingers, while lipsyncing to the male voice in the song, “Manoohari…” My wife looks momentarily surprised, but quickly recovers, meeting his touch with a shy smile and a graceful acceptance of the moment. The chemistry between them was palpable, and the room seems to heat up even more as they exchange a charged glance. When Zakir’s fingers started tracing down her neck, she gracefully turned her back to him and stands with her hands crossed above her head in mudras, cocking her hips seductively to one side, making her love handles jut out temptingly. Zakir continued tracing with the back of his fingers, this time along the sides of her raised arms and down her armpits right up to the titillating skin of her tantalizing love handles, and gives it a flick with a couple of his fingers. I watch as Archana gasps sensually at the flick and retracts her hips, her movements keeping in perfect rhythm with the music.

Deep inside I knew it was all an act, but still, it did nothing to minimize the jealousy and possessiveness that was bubbling inside me. I wasn’t sure if it was because Zakir was starting to get touchy, but Archana begins to slightly move away from him while dancing, keeping out of his hand’s reach. Zakir doesn’t bother to follow. Instead, he sashays over to the props table and takes an apple from the fruit basket. He brings it near his mouth, kisses it, takes aim at Archana’s belly, and throws it. It finds its mark right beside her navel, making her belly wobble deliciously. Archana who wasn’t expecting that shrinks her belly as the apple makes contact and gasps out audibly. It only takes her seconds to realize what happened and she immediately adapts her expression to sell it off like she was in pleasure. I find myself getting oddly aroused seeing my wife’s belly getting teased like that. 

As she continues to dance I notice that she was now not only trying to maintain a distance but also keeping her back turned towards Zakir – probably a subtle attempt to protect her belly from further fruit projectiles from him. Zakir probably realizing this smirks and begin to slowly sneak up behind her. And suddenly bends over and presses his cheek against Archana’s hips just as she was finishing a step that cocked her hips to that side. Archana gasps in surprise as she feels her bare waist brushing against Zakir’s stubby cheeks, but this time instead of pulling away she just smiles shyly and lets his cheek linger against her skin. I clench my fists tightly, reminding myself over and over that it is just a performance and nothing more. 

Suddenly the song changes and Archana takes the opportunity to break her pose and scoots away from Zakir again while making it seem like it was all part of her dance performance. But I knew her well enough to know that she was doing her best to keep her body contact with Zakir minimal without making it obvious.  Zakir again saunters over to the props table. Seeing him heading towards it again Archana turns her back towards him probably thinking he may start throwing fruits at her again and she didn’t want to give him the chance.  The dance was almost starting to seem like a sensual cat and mouse game now. 

However, something about the song that was playing now nags at my mind. The tune of the song felt oddly familiar. But I wasn’t able to place it as the song was playing from somewhere in the middle instead of the start. It was then I saw Zakir picking up a new prop from the table. One that I didn’t notice lying there before. It was a long curved steel sword. And suddenly it clicks in my mind which song it was. It was the telugu version of the popular tamil song from the nineties called Ottakathe Kattiko. Along with the recognition came the realization of what Zakir was going to do next. 

Nooooo ! He wouldn’t dare ! Would he? 

Archana continues to dance unaware of what is coming, but I watch closely as Zakir begins to spin the sword around gracefully, slashing it through the air in a silver arc and rolling as he took steps to come forward until he was standing a little to the side of Archana. Archana looks momentarily taken aback seeing him dance with a sword in his hand. But probably assuming it is safe to turn toward him now, she slowly does so and freezes to the spot as Zakir does the unthinkable. He slashes the sword through the air and brings it down towards her, inserting its sharp tip right into the dead center of her deep navel. Archana’s whole torso heaves up in an almighty gasp as she feels that intimate touch on her alluring navel. 

My mind explodes seeing my wife’s precious navel, the centerpiece of her feminine sensuality being teased at a sword tip by another man. I knew too well how sensitive and intimate her navel was for her and understood the turmoil she must be going through now – trying to keep the unwelcome pang of pleasure she must be feeling at bay. She let the sensation wash over her for a moment before stepping away with her eyes still closed and turning away, taking a few precious seconds to gather herself before continuing to dance with her back turned to Zakir. 

But Zakir was relentless and doesn’t allow her the gap she needed to gather herself. He raises the sword towards her again and runs it along the skin of her exposed back making her quiver. He pauses the blade against the back strings of her blouse, subtly goading her to turn back and face him again. Archana looks down as though resigned to her fate and slowly turns back around to face Zakir again, her expression a mix of shyness and defiance. Zakir presses the sword tip under her chin and slowly begins to run it down her skin, over the gentle rise of her bosom, and all the way down to her belly, and pauses near her navel. Archana’s defiant expression begins to crumble as Zakir begins to draw slow deliberate circles around her navel. Her belly was heaving wildly now, and her eyes reflected her inner struggle as she tried to resist his advances and the singing pleasure coursing through her nerves with everything she got.

But Zakir pauses suddenly and briefly pulls back the blade from her stomach. My wife who was probably bracing for the sword to enter her navel again any moment now looks at Zakir surprised. But I could also sense something else in her expression. Perhaps a slight tinge of disappointment? But that couldn’t be. Does that mean Archana was beginning to succumb to his advances now? Zakir smiles at her smugly, relishing in the power he was gaining over her. As I keep watching in horror and suspense, Zakir finally moves his sword forward again and inserts the pointy tip of the sword right into the deep mysterious depths of her enchanting navel. Her expression morphs into a look of poor ecstatic pain, as her body convulses involuntarily under the onslaught of pleasure. An explosion of jealousy and arousal hits me like a bag of bricks seeing my wife’s navel being conquered and driven to peaks of pleasure at a sword tip by another man. Part of me is angry and jealous at the fact that another man is pleasuring her in a way that I might never be able to do, but another part of me is turned on by the sight of her in such a vulnerable and aroused state.

Archana’s breathing becomes heavy and ragged, her belly rising and falling with each breath as she struggles to maintain her composure. Zakir seems to be enjoying himself, his eyes fixed on Archana’s face as he continues to manipulate the sword inside her navel, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from her body. I can see the way her body is trembling under his touch, and I know that she is getting close to the brink of an orgasm.

Finally, with one last twist and thrust of the sword, Zakir brings Archana to the peak of pleasure. She cries out softly, as an onslaught of intense pleasure explodes from her navel, pushing her over the edge of ecstasy – overwhelming her utterly and completely. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The scene was too arousing, magnificent, and infuriating all at the same time for me. 

“CUTTTT !!!” Raghav’s voice finally breaks the spell, everyone in the room was bound in and the music abruptly stops. Zakir finally withdraws the sword from her navel with a sigh breaking eye contact, leaving her trembling and still recovering from the orgasm. I watch as she blushes furiously trying to slow down her ragged breathing and looks apologetically in my direction. 

The conflicting emotions that rages inside me as I meet her eyes were too overwhelming. And I struggle to process it all. Why was I getting this strange thrill by watching my wife getting teased and pleasured by another man? I felt like I was on the verge of a new, dangerous addiction, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.