A note to the reader. This story is written from the perspective of a young girl living in the 1880’s. As such much of the language and descriptions relating to the body and sexual activity are those common to the time and not those you might be used to.
I make no claim to being an expert on India or it’s religions, so please accept it purely as the entertainment intended.
Indian Spice
ONE
The year was 1881 and I’d started out on a great adventure that would change my life forever. Of course at this point I had no idea what lay in wait for me. I was naive and innocent even by my cosseted English standards. But I was also not without some bravery or the understanding of my necessity that left me with but one option to secure my future.
With the death of my husband from Cholera the summer before and I’d found myself widowed after little more than a year of marriage.
He’d been a kind man if a little cold in affection. But then he had been a lot older than me. I was but a child at nineteen while George had been a mature man of the world in his early forties. His wealth and connections had dazzled me and, just as importantly, my widowed father, who’d been keen to see me wedded into a good family.
Within weeks of my marriage I understood why he had been so keen when he was also taken by the good Lord.
And so it was that in the spring of that year I found myself alone and in desperate need of a long term plan to avoid a slow decline into poverty. I had inherited a tidy sum, but not enough that without further income I could live for many years as I had done to this point. Furthermore I was still young. Just twenty two. I was not ready for life as a spinster. But there were so few suitors in my home country so I’d decided to do as many women had done and seek a new husband in the Empire where all the eligible bachelors were making their fortunes.
It was a brazen decision. I had no experience of life outside England. Little outside of Woking. To board a boat destined for a country I knew little about other than newspaper tales of heroism and imperial prestige was to many an undertaking of madness. But I embarked on it with relish.
My journey to India took three months, sailing from Southampton. An arduous time at sea with short stops at St Helena and Aden. For guidance I had only a copy of the somewhat wordily titled book ‘A Few Words of Advice on Traveling and it’s Requirements Addressed to Ladies’. It’d read it cover to cover several times by my arrival in Bombay. I also had my old Bible. Well worn it had been a source of comfort since for as long as I could remember.
I’d heard that sometimes ladies found shipboard romance but that wasn’t to be for me. Perhaps my shyness was a barrier as there was no shortage of eligible bachelors on board. Young gentlemen keen to find wealth with new business opportunities, others engaged in Her Majesties duties of colonial administration or attached to the military. I felt confident once I reached my destination things would be different. Away from the stuffiness of England I would blossom and find myself more at ease.
Eventually we docked in Bombay and I embarked on the journey across land to my eventual destination. First I travelled by train, which were it not for the unbearable crowding of natives and the clear blue skies it poured steam into, could have come straight from an English mainline. Next I went on by carriage much more happy in my own company.
India was how I imagined in someways. Such great numbers of people, the constant background babble of languages I didn’t speak. Scavenging dogs that seemed to have no owners and cattle, herded along roads that were no more than trodden down dirt tracks. Several times I spied Elephants employed to clear new fields or transporting dignitaries while their mahouts guided them. Only once had I seen one of these beasts. On a visit to London Zoo as a child I had witnessed their resident elephant, Jumbo. A giant of a creature by all accounts, but here they seemed more majestic then ever.
India was also greener than I had expected. And wetter. Fields of rice, wheat and cotton stretched to the horizon. Amongst them simple dwellings that housed farm workers. Just mud or unfired bricks with straw roofs. Bungha’s I subsequently learnt they were called. Then in the towns, more substantial brick built homes. And Colonial Government buildings that would be filled with Indians working as clerks under the direction of British officials.
And then of course there was the unbearable heat and a constant annoying buzz of insects. There was also a smell that was distinctly foreign to me. An aroma of cooking fires laced with herbs and spices, but also a stench of garbage, animal excrement and human urine. Most unpleasant.
I found lodgings with an English family. Just a room, while I took my meals with the older couple who owned the small homestead.
It was on the edge of a busy town and close to the garrison that provided ample employment for Indian servants and clerical staff. And it was there I hoped to find a future husband.
There were few residents that were English other than the soldiers. Just a handful of older couples like the Coolidge’s, mostly ex service who had decided to remain.
The food was a new experience. A mixture of English and Indian cuisine, all heavily spiced. It certainly wasn’t unpleasant but it would take a while to become accustomed to such rich flavours and the abundance of rice in place of potatoes.
“I hope to find a position as a Governess and eventually perhaps a husband.” I explained.
“There are many fine Officers at the Garrison who are in need of an English woman of good breeding. Perhaps you will find one there.”
“I do hope so.”
I’m not sure that Mrs Coolidge approved of my aims. Either she felt I was cavalier or perhaps mercenary, I was unsure which. But she didn’t voice her opinions.
Mr Coolidge said very little. For that I was pleased as I found him a little unsettling. I think the sight of a young lady in his home stirred feelings inside him that I’d rather not think about. The idea that he may see me as an object of desire was very unpleasant and raised memories of my duties as a wife to George.
Sex had been a chore to be undertaken perhaps weekly. I was naive but did my duty as he required. Mostly it was the same. I would lift up my dress and remove my undergarments. Then as I sat on the side of the bed he would face me and hold my legs apart while he partook in that activity that men seemed to so enjoy. Occasionally he would ask me to face away and bend over. I’d support myself on the large chest at the bottom of our bed while he entered me from behind.
I can’t say it was an unpleasant experience but certainly he found more pleasure in it than I did. I’d heard that it could be much more pleasurable for a woman than I experienced, but I put that down to rumour from the uninitiated and the imagination of street girls and trollops wishing to make their trade sound more exciting.
I just accepted that it was how it was and I was resigned that I would have to perform similar duties to my future husband when I found him. And of course it would be especially necessary if I was to have a family. So far I hadn’t been blessed which given my circumstances was not such a bad thing.
The Garrison held its first dance of my stay at the end of the month. Dressed in my most extravagant wear I accompanied my Landlord and Lady on the short walk to the Garrison house.
The sound of strings filled the grounds as we arrived. Indian servants greeted us and led us up the steps where a very posh sounding gentleman announced us.
I spent the evening moving amongst the throng of people, mostly military, politely acknowledging anyone who looked my way while trying to catch the eye of any young man of suitable rank. I had one or two ladies as competition I noted, but I was far prettier than them. That may sound pretentious but I was confident it was true. It didn’t however, help me when it came to finding a dance partner. It seemed a demure composure was a hindrance and that I might need to be more outgoing if I was to be successful.
In the few days I’d been here I’d already become accustomed to the reality that there were two India’s. The masses that lived simply, farming and tending their animals, and a much wealthier class that stood as equals with their British masters. Sometimes above.
The man I saw now was evidently the later. A handsome, upright individual with bright attentive eyes and radiant complexion. He seemed to be studying me carefully as my gaze fell upon him.
I smiled back with a slight blush as he nodded an unexpected acknowledgment of me before turning away to talk to a high ranking soldier.
It was then that I noticed I was being watched from another quarter. Not by one of the upright young military men as I had hoped, but by an elegant Indian woman. She certainly wasn’t a servant and seemed to have high position amongst the people here. Everyone that passed her gave deference, almost as they might our Queen Victoria at a palace banquet. Not that I’d ever seen Her Majesty.
I wasn’t so good at placing the ages of Native women, or indeed the men, but I guessed this lady was in her early to mid thirties. Extremely beautiful with richly coloured clothes. Gold jewellery adorned her neck and wrists. Two long fringe style earrings hung just clear of long tied back hair that gleamed with natural sheen.
To my surprise she came over and stood next to me, making a show of looking out over the waltz being danced before us.
“It is an exquisite party wouldn’t you say.”
She spoke well, excellent English with only a hint of accent.
“Yes it is.” I answered.
“Alas I haven’t been asked to dance yet.”
“Beautiful ladies often scare young men away. They fear they aren’t worthy enough.”
She continued surveying the hall as if judging.
“Perhaps they aren’t.”
“Most here are British army officers. I’m sure the majority are honest and upstanding.” I countered.
I feared I might be offending her, but I would not stand by if her intention was to be anti-British. It seemed I needn’t have feared as she turned to me and warmed.
“My name is Maya.”
“That’s a very beautiful name.” I said kindly.
“It means illusion. Also compassion and wisdom.”
I couldn’t help but think that with her perfect complexion and natural beauty she might indeed be an illusion. But I was forgetting my manners.
“Sorry. I’m Rayne.
I’ve no idea what it means. But I’m pleased to meet you.”
Maya’s face was inscrutable. I found it hard to fathom her, but she smiled genuinely and her brown eyes seemed to look deeply into my soul.
“In means queen. A name fit for royalty.” She said calmly.
“Really.” I was quite taken aback how this native girl could know anything of an English name but then I was already suspecting she was anything but an ordinary woman.
“You are new to India.”
“Does it show so easily.”
“The English protect their pale complexion from the Indian sun but eventually it shades the skin. Yours is still the colour of a woman who has lived under rain and cloud.”
“It doesn’t always rain in England.” I protested.
“And the sun doesn’t always shine in India. But perhaps it will shine on you if you are open to new experiences.”
I started to realise this Maya was quite the sophisticated lady and swallowed back a sudden fear she was more than my match. However she was the first person here to show me friendship and I was already falling under whatever spell she cast.
I endeavoured to turn the attention away from myself.
“Tell me. Who is that fine gentleman?” I asked pointing out the Indian man I’d spied earlier.
“That is the Maharaja.”
“An Indian prince. How exciting.”
I wondered if I might have the opportunity of meeting him, but then I was just another unimportant person amongst many.
“He is at all the parties. He’s a big supporter of British rule and is close to the Lieutenant-Governor.”
“And which one is that?” I just didn’t know anyone here apart from the old couple, Mr and Mrs Coolidge, who rented me my room.
Maya looked around.
“That one.” She pointed unashamedly at a greying rather portly uniformed man.
“He’s not as dashing as your Maharaja.” I joked.
Maya smiled.
“Not the husband type?”
I blushed. Was it that obvious why I was here? I didn’t deny it.
“I would hope for better.”
She turned to face me. Piercing brown eyes that portrayed deep intelligence and a depth of understanding, as she’d already demonstrated to me.
“Why don’t you come to my residence for afternoon tea tomorrow. There is much I would like to explain about my country, and… perhaps help you in your quest.
Just ask to be taken to the Villa.”
“The Villa.”
“Yes. Shall we say three o clock?”
Maya’s aura was powerful. It gripped me as firmly as Britain held India itself. I was thrilled to be invited and had no intention of saying no. But I was also conscious of how hard I would have found it had I wished to.
“Yes. That would be lovely.”
“Excellent.”
Again that knowing smile. Then she was gone back into the crowd, vanishing like an illusion played by a street magician. Just as her name had implied.
I was quite in awe of her already and was pleased that I would see her again tomorrow.
“May I have this hand.”
I spun around to the voice to find a dashing young Captain waiting for my answer.
“Captain Andrews Ma’am. Henry.”
I held my hand out for him to take as I forgot my new friend and concentrated on my search.
“Thank you. You may.” I responded as a warm smile spread along my lips.
The rest of the evening passed much too quickly. Captain Andrews was attentive and the perfect gentleman. He danced exquisitely and talked without fear. Even when he walked me home he behaved impeccably. In England such a thing would have been scandalous, but here the normal rules of etiquette were greatly relaxed.
TWO
She had said residence. A villa. I don’t know what I had expected, but certainly not the grand white house with domed Bengal roofs that greeted me when I stepped from the rickshaw. It was more like a palace.
A long path bordered by well maintained lawns ran straight from where I stood, past richly coloured, red and gold’ tents up to wide steps. Already a servant was walking towards me.
“Welcome Miss Rayne. You are expected.
“Thank you.”
Inside was much cooler. Everywhere smelt of jasmine and roses. So much more pleasant than the stench of people and cooking that filled the town. High ceilings and large windows, heavy wooden carved furniture and decorative drapes dominated by intensely coloured patterns of elephants and birds. It was a picture of Indian decadence.
Maya appeared as if from nowhere, again reminding me of an illusion. She looked just as elegant as she had at the party. Dressed extravagantly in what I’d learnt was called a salwar kameez she waited for me to approach her.
“Thank you again for inviting me.” I offered politely.
She put her hands together in a greeting and lowered her head ever so slightly.
“Come. Tea is being served for us.”
I followed her into what I assumed was the Indian equivalent of a drawing room. In reality a large hall bathed in bright sunlight from enormous windows that just made the opulence of the furniture gleam with a magical quality.
It was surreal to sit in a palace drinking tea from Staffordshire pottery with a native. But despite Maya’s heritage she could just as easily have been any lady in a London Town house. She had the manners and deportment of any well to do lady I had ever met.
Her clothing was a joy to the eye. Strong reds, golds and greens in elaborate patterns, all amplifying her natural beauty. I felt surprisingly plain next to her in my lightly coloured bodice. My fair hair was up at the sides but hung down in ringlets at the back while Mayas was black and straight, flowing down her back like a dark water fall.
“This is such an extravagant home.” I observed.
“Fabulous.”
“It is the residence of the Maharaja.
That is him.” She pointed up at a large picture.
“The man you saw last night.”
A handsome face looked back down at me. A regal man in brightly coloured clothes. He looked more like a god in the portrait but no less attractive. Inexplicably I felt a twinge of desire. Lewd thoughts that made no sense rushed through my mind. I pushed the thoughts aside putting it down to the heat and the unaccustomed surroundings.
“This is his palace?”
For a moment I was confused. I glanced at the servants stood silently in wait to remind myself this woman was not one of them.
“My husband.” She clarified reading my bemused look.
“So you’re a princess?”
“Maharani is the correct term.”
“Oh.
I’m no one special. Perhaps I shouldn’t be here.” I felt a fake. An imposter.
Maya placed her hand on mine, smiling that reassuring smile of hers again.
“You are here because I asked you to be here. What we are is not so important as who we are.”
She glanced downward.
“To our shame the cast system, much like the class structure in your culture defines people’s worth. I don’t adhere to that more than convention demands of me. And as women we often find ourselves at the wrong position in the hierarchy.”
“Yes. We do.”
“Have you finished your tea?
Perhaps you would like to see a place where women are not subservient to men?”
“Does such a place exist?”
“Yes. Right here in this house.”
“Only women and the Maharaja himself are permitted beyond this point. The only exception is the eunuchs.”
She pulled back the heavy curtains that separated the house from this forbidden area and I stepped through into a luxurious hall. It was open on three sides through great arches. Ornate furniture filled the space and the walls and ceilings were decorated with life size murals of Indian…
“Oh my.”
I gasped as my eyes focused on the them. Colourful depictions of naked people engaging in various carnal pursuits. Some in twos. Some involving three people. Many were just of girls. I looked away knowing that I was blushing. Such lewd and lascivious depictions I’d never laid eyes on before. And to my horror I felt twinges of self betrayal in my belly. Inexplainable desires demanding that I turn back and look at the murals.
Maya sensed my discomfort.
“The British are a very knowledgeable people. You are great engineers, law makers and explorers. But when it comes to pleasures of the flesh you are not so.”
She laughed at my naivety.
“It’s…” I wanted to say disgusting but it wasn’t what I felt. If anything I was overcome with a deep sense of curiosity. And there was that feeling of want that had come over me in the drawing room again. So unlike me.
“It’s very un-lady-like.”
I uttered with evident embarrassment.
“What is depicted here is inspired by the Karma Sutra. A guide on how to live well and find emotional fulfilment.”
I focused on one image. An upright man holding a woman upside down with her mouth… I looked to another. A man lifting a woman onto his oversized, rigid staff…
Again I pulled my eyes away.
“Living well? But it is all pictures of… carnal sin.”
“The Karma Sutra is an ancient text. A philosophical work that understands the power of love in human affairs. And love can only truly be expressed by the physical act.”
“I disagree. Companionship and agreeable conversation is the display of love.”
I stood straight and held on to my Englishness in the fight against the bright display of embarrassment now glowing in my cheeks.
Maya remained as calm and elegant as ever. She just waved an encompassing arm across the lewd display looking up at it as though it as I might a work by Constable or Holgarth.
“Very fine sentiments. But would you not agree this is a far more pleasurable way to express your love?”
Her eyes burned into me, searching out my true thoughts. I gave them as I saw them.
“How is there pleasure in such an act? Especially for a woman?” I was quite incredulous of the notion.
Again she just smiled.
“Follow me.”
I did as she asked, crossing the hall and walking along a corridor until passing through an open archway, finding myself in a great open space. A garden of luscious flowers and small trees. Ornamental statutes of local gods poked from amongst the foliage and a large pool sat in the middle of a lawned area every bit as good as some stately home in England. In the centre of the pool a fountain, spraying crystal clear water in a continuous curtain around itself.
But it wasn’t the garden or the pool that caught my attention.
Now I was swallowed by real embarrassment. Perhaps twenty girls. All around my age or maybe a little older. Two swam naked in the pool while others sat around in small groups. Some dressed, others just partially clothed. To my eyes it was a bastion of depravity. This was the barbaric nature of the undeveloped world. Savages without God. It disgusted me.
“I cannot be here.” I protested.
“Do not be so foolish.” The first time ever her words had been sharp with me. Instantly the calmness returned and she continued.
“This is a place where women are free of the rules of men. We are ourselves and do as we wish.”
My eyes went wide as they fell on a young girl laid on the ground, over by some tall bushes. It took me a moment to process what was happening. She lay back with her bosom exposed, evidently happy and oblivious to my presence while another girl pushed up her lower garment and opened her legs.
I was held fast in my gaze at the sight of her most private parts exposed before the other girls head obscured my view.
“Oh my God.
I feel faint.”
Never had I seen such a thing.
“Come. Sit by the pool.”
I let her guide me to a small bench and I sat to catch my breath.
“Why did you bring me here?”
She seemed to consider her answer carefully.
“You came to India in search of something. Perhaps I understand what you are searching for better than you.”
“I think not.”
One of the naked swimming girls lifted herself from the water and sat on the grass looking at me. I managed a smile to be polite and she giggled. Her flesh, flesh that I should never have seen, jiggled and I felt a strange sensation race over my skin.
“English?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the Empress?”
I laughed at that.
“No. England is a very large place. And our Queen only sees very important people.”
“Oh.” She seemed disappointed.
Maya said something in Punjabi and the girl smiled before falling back into the water.
“Does everyone speak English here?”
“Not all. But most to some extent.
These are not common girls. They all come from good families. Wealthy families. Some are wives like myself. Others concubines that have arrived as gifts.”
“Gifts?
Gifts to who?” I already knew the answer.
“The Maharaja.”
“People are not gifts to be given away.”
“No one is here by force. Everyone has come willingly.”
I glanced around again. A small paradise. An oasis, a garden of Eden. But soiled by sin.
“You all live here together?”
“Yes. We want for nothing. It is a paradise in a world of evil.”
“And your Maharaja? Does he come here to?”
“He is the one man who is allowed here. He rarely visits. He sends for whichever girl he requires and we go to him.”
“Requires?”
I was horrified at the word. I felt sure what she meant by it, but when she replied it was obvious she saw it very differently to me.
“When he is in need of pleasure. He will send a servant to fetch his selected girl. It is a honour.”
My heart was racing now. My head screamed for me to leave this place. But something held me and forced me to question and understand.”
“And what do you do for his… pleasure?” Why was I asking the obvious?
“Whatever he wishes.
He is a kind and gentle man. Well versed in the art of love making.”
“Oh.”
I shuddered. Tiny tremors raced from my womb and turned my stomach into a churning cauldron. Lower down a raging fire took hold and I felt tortured as never before.
“They do what is in the pictures?” I asked tentatively.
“In England you drink tea and have polite conversation about the weather.” She laughed at me.
“I promise you these girls are are more fulfilled after they have demonstrated their love to our Maharaja, and he in return.”
“I could never do that. I wouldn’t know how.”
“It is an art. Learnt through education and experience. That’s why we live here together. We satisfy our longings when we are not with the Maharaja and teach each other our skills.”
I shook my head.
“I could never do such a thing. To go to a man I hardly knew and…”
I didn’t dare think about it as the images came rushing back into my head.
“You came here to find a husband did you not?
A man you don’t know? And on his say-so that he is a good man you give yourself to him?”
“Yes. But that’s different.”
“How so?” Her eyes held me as if searching my soul.
“I… I don’t know.”
Truly I didn’t.
“Do you… give yourself to the Maharaja?” I asked, suddenly aware that she seemed to hold a position much different to these other girls.
“I am charged with the orderly running of this Purdah. I have very many privileges including the freedom to come and go as I wish, but yes, I am summoned just as the other girls.”
I stared in disbelieve that this elegant well breed woman could partake in such debauchery as I’d seen displayed on the walls.
“And… you enjoy it?”
“We all go willingly. You have much to learn about the art of love. It is not how you think it is.”
For a moment I remembered those times I sat on the edge of the bed with my legs held up and apart while George had his way. An unsatisfactory and messy affair of animal grunting before he filled me with his pearly cream. Suddenly here was a glimpse that there may be much I had missed. That perhaps there was a further pleasure, as I had heard from other girls, than I had experienced.
“Your late husband. Did you lay with him?”
It was as though she could see my thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Naked?”
“No. Never.”
“So he lifted your dress and took pleasure at his whim. He summoned you and you obliged him.”
She had it so exactly as it had been. This was a conversation I would not have had with anyone but I felt compelled to answer.
“Yes.”
“Then I think you have never felt the pleasure and delight of orgasm.”
My mouth fell open in shock that she could talk so freely about such things. But again I was unable to answer in anything but truth.
“No.”
My voice quivered with the realisation that I had no real idea what an orgasm was. The fire inside me raged like an inferno. I wished I was anywhere but here.
“Let me show you.”
Every part of my being screamed for me to run. To escape this place and never return. But my curiosity and the firm guiding hands of Maya kept me in place as she led me back to the couple who had so shocked me.
“Watch.” She said.
I was fixated.
The girls were naked now. One laid back squirming on the grass as the other pushed two fingers into her secret place. Slowly moving them in and out imitating the movement of a husband in the throes of taking his pleasure. An almost imperceptible squelch from her wet cunny accompanied small groans, not dissimilar to those that had on occasion escaped my own lips drifted up on the air to my ears.
Both girls glanced in my direction and smiled but neither were dissuaded from their activity. I saw savages. I saw native whores. I saw ungodliness. But still I watched.
“Love making is beautiful.” I heard close to my ear. So close that I could smell her aroma, like sweet spring cherry blossom.
“Watch as her fire burns.”
I watched. Mesmerised. The girl whose fingers moved so expertly lowered her head, her tongue now massaging between the others thighs, seeking out that tiny button I knew often excited myself when I accidentally bushed against it while bathing. Never had I experienced or even dreamt of such a thing myself as I saw now.
“It is wrong. Girls should not lay with girls.” I muttered.
“Love is spiritual. It’s universal. It doesn’t matter if it is between a man and a woman or two women.”
Before my eyes fingers gently prised that pearl of delight free of its hiding place until it stood proud and red against the girls darker flesh. It glistened with a wetness of lady juice. It was all I could see. Everything around had faded into nothing.
“Oh my.”
I felt faint again as a tongue flicked and lips kissed the girls tiny button with the gentleness of a songbird. Soft pliable flesh dimpled under exploring fingers and spread dampness that glistened in the bright sunlight.
Mayas hands moved over my shoulders and stroked down my arms. My knees were weak and my stomach was queasy with the flutter of butterflies. Lower down I felt an agony I couldn’t ignore. A growing pressure, an ache that demanded I rub my own cloven inlet like a common hedge whore.
The Indian girl bucked and arched her back. Her moans becoming louder and ever more urgent.
“See how her fire burns. Does yours also burn?”
“I…”
Maya was tight against my back. I could feel the heat of her body. Her bosom pushed against me and her hands moved over my bodice to caress my stomach. The warmth of her body, the light brush of her breath adding to my pain.
Deep under the layers of clothing I wore the fire did indeed rage in my own special place. It was becoming unbearable. To my horror I wished it was me that was on the grass. I wished it was me that was sinning so openly.
“Oh my.”
I put a hand to my mouth in shock as the girl gave out a final cry of what can only be described as great joy.
“I must go.”
I could take no more. With exploding panic I pulled myself away from Maya and ran back the way I had come, almost closing my eyes as I passed the murals.
Once outside I gulped great gasps of air and fanned myself to cool the fire rushing through my veins. I hurried back to the safety of the homestead.
That night in my room I was plagued with memories of what I’d witnessed and by the devil that resided between my loins.
I skipped prayers, too guilty to put myself before the Lord and climbed into bed. In the dark I hitched up my nightgown and allowed my fingers to explore my thatched cottage.
“Uhh.”
I cringed at the unexpected tingle driving a grunt from between my lips. Womanly juices coated my fingers as I pushed two inside me, trying to emulate the actions of the Indian girl.
“Oh my God.”
I cursed at using the Lords name but the sensations riding through me pushed the guilt away. I was writhing with unbound delight, as though possessed by Satan himself. I no longer cared such was the thrill I felt.
The fingers of my other hand found the tiny button of fire and it came alive, forcing me to satisfy it. I pushed my legs wide until my hips hurt. I teased it, rubbed it. The fire burned as a furnace writhing my in belly.
“Huh. Ohh.”
I bit my lip so as not to wake the household and turned my head into the pillow.
“Mmmm. Uh.”
I bucked uncontrollably like an angry mule as my body was absorbed with a glorious wave of such delight I could not believe it wasn’t heavenly sent.
Then it subsided away and I felt nothing but relaxation and comfort. I slept that night more soundly than ever before.
I was shocked to see Maya the next morning on my stroll. Almost as if she had been waiting for me.
“Good morning.”
Maya brought her palms together in front of her chest and gave a slight nod of her head, greeting me just as she had at the villa.
“May I walk with you?”
“Of course.”
I was unsure if I should but it would have been impolite to refuse.
“You knew I was widowed?” I asked striking up conversation.
“You are new here. An object of curiosity to many as all newcomers are at first. It is hard to keep secrets so there is much I know about you Rayne.”
“You sound as though you have spies watching me.”
“Not spies. But people who tell me things. People who keep me abreast of what happens in this province.
Any new arrival is always noted.”
“And do you invite all the new young ladies to your villa?”
“No.
You are the only one.”
“Why?
Why me?”
I felt a swell of disgust at yesterday’s events.
“Why did you show me those things?”
“You are looking for a new life. You think it is a man. Any man that fits your ideal of a husband. I simply offer you an alternative to your traditional views.”
“But why?” I still didn’t understand why me?
“You think that kind of debauchery is an alternative I might wish to be part of?”
“I see your aura. I see you are spiritual and have the potential to widen your horizons beyond what polite society seems appropriate.”
“Widen my horizons? What is you want from me?
D you want me to become a… a concubine?”
I laughed thinking I was making a joke. But by the time I took my next breath I was of the opinion that my moment of humour may be close to the truth.
“I want you to be happy. And I want my maharaja to be happy.” Maya answered.
I found myself led to a small tea house where Maya ordered us a pot of tea and found a table to sit at. Around us English soldiers from the Garrison were the main customers.
I looked at Maya. A flawless woman of great beauty. A princess. How could someone so elegant…
“I don’t understand how you can be happy that your husband has… relations with other women.” I blurted out.
Maya remained as calm as ever.
“As I said. An alternative to your traditional views.
How good did your husband make you feel? Did he give you the sensations you experienced in the privacy of your chambers last night or did he leave you feeling empty as you wiped away his seed?”
I gasped. How did she know what I had done? I realised she was guessing but I felt disgusted at the memory. Vowing never to do such a thing again.
Maya pushed on. My silence having confirmed her assumptions.
“You could have those feelings all the time. And you have but scratched the surface of what your body can do. It is the key to accepting greater things.
But first you must open that mind just a little. Body and soul will grow together.”
I hurried my tea wishing I was anywhere but with this captivating woman. I just didn’t understand what magic she held over me. I was terrified to pursue this conversation further. Maya had other ideas and pushed on.
“You think your God tells you it is a sin. But it is men who made it sin, to keep you in their control. God gave you these pleasures to enjoy just as he gave them to men. The true sin is to deny yourself.”
I looked out over the throng of natives passing by. A noisy mass of people that filled the dirt roads of this town.
“I… can’t.”
Now my head was in turmoil. The thought of what she seemed to be offering horrified me. But at the same time stirrings in my body demanded I experience the forbidden.
“You can if you open your mind and accept this is a different world.”
I glanced around. Indeed it was a different world. A people I didn’t recognised milled around us speaking a language I didn’t understand. I saw the lewd murals in my thoughts again and wondered what great pleasures they portrayed that my staid English upbringing had hid from me. Within the space of a conversation I’d gone from disgust at her savage world to…
“Will you teach me?”
The words escaped my mouth without my intent.
I have to admit that with my head full of wild ideas, not to mention fears at what lay in wait for me with Maya, the last person I expected to see was Captain Andrews.
That evening after dinner he called at the ranch and asked that I walk out with him. Blushing I’d accepted and I now found myself strolling in the cooler air of the approaching night with the soldier who had made my heart skip only a few days earlier.
He regaled me with stories of daring as we meandered through the still busy town. Children ran after us, inquisitive at the very English sight of the two of us.
But my mind was still tormented with other thoughts. Ideas that burned my cheeks. Thoughts of his root attacking my notch, filling my cock lane. But interspersed with stray ideas of Mia’s fingers replacing him, bringing on that blissful flood I’d felt in my room.
Outwardly I smiled and nodded at the Captains words. Inside I fought a battle with the devil himself.
“It was very presumptuous of you this evening Captain. It is not the done thing to be seen with a man to whom I have not been properly introduced.”
In England we would have been chaperoned. Indeed Captain Andrew’s would have sought a further introduction before asking to walk out. But here the rules of etiquette were more lax. My desire to have him ravish me enforced in my mind why that etiquette was so important. That I, an educated middle class lady could have such ideas was as abhorrent to my thoughts as it was arousing to my cunny.
“And yet you are here.” He straightened his poise and smiled.
“In India the necessities of polite society are much looser than at home. But you shouldn’t fear that my intentions are anything other than honourable.”
Now I smiled.
“I had not thought it any other way.”
The devil inside me wished it were. My stomach churned and my knees threatened to drop me to the ground any moment with their weakness.
“But you are correct. India is a very different place. In only a short space of time I have found that.
Tell me. What do you know of the Maharani? I had tea with her today at the palace.”
The Captain seemed impressed.
“The palace. They call it a villa. But it is… very grand. You are lucky to have been invited. Few are.
The Maharaja is essential to our control of this Provence. He’s British educated and loyal to Her Majesties Government. The Governor maintains a good relationship. But the the Maharani… She is seldom seen. Except at official receptions as the Maharajas consort. Personally I’ve never spoken to her, but she is very beautiful and highly respected by the locals.”
“Careful. One might thing you have desires yourself.” I teased.
“Not at all.
There are some, very few mind, that have a different view.”
“How so?”
Now I was intrigued.
“I have heard her described as a Dayan. A witch.”
We turned a corner and I saw the ranch house ahead. Given my inner battle I was pleased. I was far from sure how long I could maintain my outward composure as the Captains mere presence made my cunny leak like a common Dollymop.
“And do you think she is a witch?”
The Captain laughed.
“Such things are a nonsense. But she is a very powerful woman. Take care that her interests are not opposed to your own.”
Finally I was delivered safely back to the ranch. TheCaptain graciously kissed my hand and stepped back.
“I bid you goodnight.”
“Thank you Captain. I look forward to seeing you again.”
The feel of his lips on the back of my hand had fired my belly. I almost ran to my room, locking myself in. Once again I allowed Satan to satisfy the uncontrollable burn between my legs.
With heaving breath I lay on my bed, fearful of what tomorrow would bring from Mia. I was bewitched, of that I was sure. And yet I could not bring myself to refuse the beguiling Indian Princess.
THREE
“Where are we going?”
I asked over the clip clop of horses hooves.
“To see a local family. A young couple who work for the Maharaja.”
Maya had collected me from my lodgings at mid morning. I can’t say I wasn’t apprehensive of allowing her to lead me into her depraved world. Only my politeness and a deep insecurity that’d always plagued me stopped me turning her away once and for all.
The devil within me had spoken yesterday and I had spent much of the night begging forgiveness and asking for guidance from the Lord. I’d assured myself I would heed the Captains warning and turn Maya away. That I would end her spell over me. But it’d been impossible. Her eyes and smile withered all opposition in me and I’d followed as a lamb would follow a farmer.
Around us the housing and animals became more sparse as we left the town. The noisy chatter of people was replaced with the buzz of insects and the chatter of birds. Ahead the horizon opened up to fields of rice. Dotted amongst the stems I could see women with bushels of the crop balanced on their heads, moving slowly in the heat. Here were the farmers of India, scratching a living from the land as I assumed they’d done for centuries. Much of the produce would make its way to the port where along with other commodities such as sugar and tea it would be sent home to Britain or other corners of the Empire. In exchange, manufactured goods would be sent back on the returning steamers.
“We are almost there.”
I looked ahead at the tiny dwelling. A simple mud mortar Bhunga with a pitched bamboo and straw roof. The door was open but I could still see its typical intricate decoration. Nowhere near as elaborate as on the large heavy doors of the palace, but still instantly recognisable as Indian.
We descended from the carriage as a young couple came out to greet us. Hands together at the chest. I returned the greeting along with Maya.
“This is Daksh and his wife Nisha.”
“I am pleased to meet you.” I don’t think they understood my words but they nodded and Daksh said something I took as a thank you.
We followed them inside and I took in my surroundings as Nisha prepared tea.
A loosely woven curtain hung over the single window. Enough to keep out prying eyes but still letting the brilliant sunshine illuminate the room.
Sparse, like the hovel of a pauper was my first thought. But at the same time it had the cleanliness and neatness of a cherished home. I realised I had to adjust my expectations to this new environment. India wasn’t a land of materialism. Their wealth lay in a spiritualism that I thought the church offered. I was beginning to understand that real spiritualism was something much deeper than the staid veneer of Sunday prayers I was used to.
“Thank you.”
Maya had passed me my cup but I made a special point of addressing Nisha. She smiled demurely and looked downward. I felt it a shame that a peasant girl would feel belittled by me just because I was English.
Both of our hosts were also in awe of Maya, obviously aware of her standing. I could sense the deference to her in Daksh’s speech as he held a deep conversation with Maya. Nisha for her part said very little, often looking down or taking occasional glances in my direction.
I drank my beverage quietly but I was becoming more concerned as to what Maya had planned.
“Wait. What are you asking them to do?”
Maya turned to me with that studious look she had.
“To show you how fulfilment with a man is.”
I swallowed. Suddenly fearful of being so far from the garrison. I was a young girl that had allowed myself to be led away despite all the advice to the contrary. I looked to Maya for reassurance and was met with that captivating smile again.
“Do not be fearful. We are only here to witness.
Let’s sit.”
I watched as Maya lowered herself onto what could only be described as a cushion. I did the same somewhat awkwardly in my more restrictive clothing.
“Witness what?”
In the back of my mind I think I already knew. I was just unable to admit it to myself through fear that I would run from the small dwelling.
“You will see.”
Like performers about to entertain their audience Daksh and Nisha stood before us. A little nervous but also somewhat pleased. As though it was a great honour to have us, more probably Maya, in their home.
I already felt that same queasy feeling that’d overcome me at the villa as I studied them carefully. Still not allowing myself to fully comprehend what was about to take place for my benefit.
Nisha was a pretty girl, perhaps no older than me. Her green dress was plain, a Sari that hung from the shoulder and around her lithe body. While Daksh wore a dhoti, a simple garment wrapped around his waist and legs then secured with a knot.
Daksh looked at us both, then turned and kissed his wife with a passion I’d only read about. He held her hands with a softness and looked into her eyes before turning back to us.
His hand moved to the knot securing his dhoti and a moment later it fell away.
“Oh my.”
I gasped a deep breath of shock at his nakedness. I couldn’t help but stare while Maya seemed unfazed. I was both horrified and curious. His body was slim but well formed. Strong limbs and a chest muscled by hard work in the fields. But it was his steed that held my attention. Just the sight of it quivered my belly and awoke the tiny devil between my legs.
It stood long and proud, dancing an independent waltz as he moved. The first time I had truly seen a man’s implement so clearly. Certainly George had never displayed his body to me like this. His root had always remained lost amongst his clothing or under my own dress. My breathing quickened. Thoughts of Captain Andrews invaded my head. I couldn’t help but wonder if his gaying instrument was as… glorious.
“Oh my.” I sputtered again.
Daksh turned to Nisha and unfastened her Sari. It fell away revealing the natural beauty of his wife.
I waved my hand in front of my hot face to cool my blood, wondering how I could stand to watch. But I was fixated, unable to look away.
Maya sat calmly next to me seemingly unaffected by the show.
“We shouldn’t be here. This is a private moment.” I muttered.
“It is private.” Maya replied. “Private to the four of us.”
“That’s not what I…”
Daksh kissed his wife’s fruits, caressed them while his hands stroked her arms. Tiny tremors rippled through her body as he suckled her like a grown child and I caught sound of her snatched breaths. My own bosom ached and my blood ran hot, flushing my face. I could see her firm youthful flesh squeezed under attentive fingers, then springing back to shape as he moved them. Each time Nisha quivered and her breathing shook.
Hands circled Nisha’s flat stomach and he knelt before her, lowering his face to her thatch, breathing in her womanly scent as though for the first time.
Nisha threw her head back with her mouth open to take in a great gulp of air. Her whole body shuddered, shaking fruits that were now tipped with the hard pointed protuberances of her large nebs.
My pulse quickened and I felt Satan take hold of my own sweet flower, exciting it under my garments. It was the same burning, quivering as I had felt at the villa. I sipped more of my tea to calm my nerves but it only seemed to feed my fire.
Next Daksh lay on the makeshift bed of blankets with his whore pipe standing pointedly skyward. Such a thing was not truly attractive. A sinuous protuberance disturbed by raised veins and ridges. And yet I felt strangely in need of it’s attention. I wanted to reach out and explore its strange surface. Gross and foul, and yet mesmerising.
Nisha s hands moved over it as I imagined I wanted mine to. Daksh gasped and jerked at her touch. His instrument becoming wet with his own manly juice and, I suspected, harder.
To my utter disbelief Nisha took it in her mouth as though it were a pipe to be smoked. Soft childlike lips closed over the bulging head and caressed it as I might suck a strawberry. Her hand rubbing his staff back and forth with increasing vigour.
My insides were in turmoil. A pressure and heat filled my stomach and my mouth watered.
After what seemed an age Daksh lifted her head away from himself and laid her back. With her legs held high and wide Daksh entered her, eliciting a cry of some word I didn’t recognise. I had a clear view of his staff sliding into her delicate hole and with it came the realisation that this was the unseen thing which George had partook with me.
He began to thrust into her as my husband had me. But he took more time, what seemed an eternity as I watched. His face contorted with pleasure as George’s had. And Nisha had the far away look of someone lost to opium. I felt a jealousy that I’d never experienced such pleasure during my own engagement.
“Uh. Uhh uh.”
Nisha sounded as though the air was being driven from her lungs each time his gaying instrument thrust into her.
And with it came a smell. Not unpleasant. A hot, salty smell of two bodies in the throes of a passion I could only imagine.
Then finally Nisha erupted.
“Uhh… uhhh.”
She became a thrashing beast as sweat trickled over her flesh. It glowed in the rays of sunshine that found their way past the makeshift curtain.
What happened next was beyond my wildest imaginations.
Taking him in her hand again she worked him like a water pump until his pearly shower sprayed out, covering her ripe fruits. Her face was written in joy as her man’s seed covered her.
I gasped at the unrestrained wanton display. But at the same time my curiosity held my eyes transfixed. I had never seen my husbands seed except when cleaning myself. Certainly never seen it leave his steed just as I had never clearly seen his stiff sinew. I saw the girls delight. The excitement in her eyes as she watched the stream of ejaculation. The smile on her parted hungry lips.
I steeled myself in the realisation my own face mirrored hers, forcing my lips together and tautening the muscles in my jaw. Too late. Maya had seen my weakness. I sat silenced by my embarrassment at betraying my inner thoughts to her.
The two actors in my education lay catching their breath for a moment before dressing as though nothing out of the ordinary had been committed.
Maya spoke warmly to the couple before handing them a small purse of money. As I watched guilt replaced my curiosity. They were grateful but I could not help feel that they had been coerced into committing a travesty before God.
I challenged Maya as soon as we were out of earshot.
“You paid those people to… perform. You took advantage of them.”
“These people were poor. Now they are not so, all for showing you only the love they have for each other.”
“I asked you to teach me. Not exploit the destitute. To have them behave like rutting deer in the park.”
“They are not destitute. They’re farmers. They have all they need. I have only given them a little more for allowing you a glimpse of what true fulfilment looks like.”
“They did that because you are some sort of princess. They did it out of fear. And because they needed money.”
Maya almost laughed.
“They don’t fear me Rayne.”
I calmed. My thoughts becoming clear.
“I think perhaps I should.”
I climbed back into the waiting carriage keen to head home.
“I’ve seen people in London that have nothing. Girls so desperate that they will give themselves to a man for pennies. That is was no different.”
“I am well aware of how life is for the poor in London. Girls everywhere in the world sell themselves when they need food and clothing. India and Britain are no different. Nowhere is it any different for the unfortunate.
I’m also aware that you fear the same fate might befall you.”
I reacted in stunned horror at such a suggestion.
“I have money.”
“Do you? Enough to sustain you indefinitely? Or did you come in search of a husband because you heard the Workhouse and brothels of east London calling for you after the death of your husband when you realised the money would eventually run out?”
I stared forward in silence. I could not voice those fears, but it was true. I had only enough money for a year or two then I would be in a predicament. What would I do then?
“How has your search for a suitor gone?”
“Captain Andrews…” I muttered unconvincingly.
“I met his acquaintance again yesterday evening and I hope to do so again at the next dance.”
“You will not.
Captain Andrews is already married. He took a wife two years ago. Another girl who arrived from England. She is quite dowdy and you are a mere distraction. Forbidden fruit.”
That shook me. The disappointment must have been expressed clearly on my face.
“You think the English soldiers are the epitome of virtue. But they are just men. Captain Andrews only views you as a foolish young girl. Naive and easily manipulated. Were he to see you again it would only be his intention to lead you into the depravity you fear.”
“I cannot believe that.” I protested.
Grasping a breath I turned my anger back at Mia.
“And is your life so different to a brothel? You are the Maharajas wife and yet you serve his sinful needs as he wishes and allow him to take many other girls to his bed.
Those murals… depraved acts. Have you performed all of them for your… master?
Maya didn’t react, instead her voice remained magically calm.
“The Purdah system is many thousands of years old. You have yet to look past the sin you believe your god protects you from and see the beauty of satisfaction. In Purdah we find peace.
In your system you serve your men when they require it. Then you look the other way when they go elsewhere for more. You lie to yourselves while accepting less than you deserve. We are honest in our needs and honour those who partake.”
I sat in silence for the rest of the journey contemplating Maya’s lesson. For it was a lesson no matter how much I hated admitting it. I had seen love. I had seen an enjoyment and pleasure that I had never experienced. And I had felt the call of my body, the unfamiliar sensations and thoughts that had filled me as I’d watched their joining.
Even now the embers of my awakened lust smouldered in my loins. I would have no choice but to peel back the petals of my fairest flower in search of that blissful agony at the earliest opportunity.
When we arrived back Maya stood in my way determined to work her dark magic on me one last time that day.
“You are a young beautiful girl. I want that you experience what god, yours or mine, has given you to enjoy.”
Maya’s fingers dragged across my cheek and over my mouth like a lover might. Her other hand entwining with my digits while her face was so close that I could feel each breath as it left her mouth over moist lips.
I knew what she was doing. Like bellows she was fanning the fire in me. A purposeful manipulation of the animal lurking in my soul. I knew now what Maya was. An illusion of respectability that hid a temptress. A Dayan.
I pulled away hardly noticing the faint taste of spice on my lips left in the trail of her finger.
“I must go.”
I almost ran into my lodgings, desperate to be alone in my room. Again my head span in a fog of confusion and lust gripped my loins.
I lifted my dress as soon as the door was closed and wriggled out of my knickers, my fingers finding sodden, swollen soft flesh as I gasped with relief at the first touch. I closed my eyes and peeled my flower open. Fingers pushed in to find silky velvet that tingled under exploring digits.
“Oh my God.” I muttered.
Nectar escaped onto my thighs, coating me in sweet juices just as Nisha had been. I writhed on my bed, squeezing my soft pliable cunny, tormenting the little boy in the boat. My head filled with images of Daksh’s steed. I could see it’s swollen crown, the explosion of his seed, the rigid shaft as Nisha’s hand had worked him.
Within moments I was bringing myself to a moment of sweet death.
“Uhhhhh…Uh.
God yes.”
I shuddered from head to toe. My flesh tingled with prickly heat.
“Uhh.”
My back arched sharply and my legs snapped together with a life of their own around my hands and I rolled onto my knees.
A moment later I found myself calming, laying in sweat soaked clothes with my round mouth and virgins flower pointing skyward.
Somehow it felt wonderful. God had deserted me I decided.
FOUR
I hoped I wouldn’t see Maya any time soon. She had colonised my mind as surely as Britain had occupied and subjugated India. I needed to purge the evil she’d awakened within me before I became a lost soul.
Again I had prayed for strength into the night. And again I had awoken with the realisation that I’d been rebuffed, abandoned to the devil that waited within me. And again I’d answered the call with fingers that urgently worked my sinful notch while my head filled with a vision of Daksh’s staff and ballocks.
“Uh.”
No matter how much I felt this wrong I could not deny it was joyous.
“Mmm.”
I shuddered, pushing my fingers deeper into the forbidden territory of my cunny. On until I felt the weakening of my consciousness and with a sudden blissful wave I was momentarily taken by the little death.
“Uhhh.”
After that I slept peacefully free of my torture.
I took breakfast with the old couple, then walked to the Bazar. Maya would come looking for me and I hoped here to lose myself in the crowds. Fearful that I would fall under her spell again if she found me.
It was noisy and busy. Stall holders bartering over their goods, shouting and babbling as they tried to capture other customers at the same time.
Earthenware pots filled with spices scented the air. Other stalls were lined with wicker baskets filled with fruits while at yet another meat hung openly, attracting flies.
Street conjurers plied their trade for handouts and a musician played a flute in the hope of a gracious donation from passers by. To me it was a colourful fancy. Something to take my mind from where Maya had led it. An opportunity to purge the devil from my thoughts.
I stopped at a display of fine silk and cotton, all decorated in rich reds and greens with gold or silver threads. Patterns and motifs so typically Indian. The vendor was as animated as any other, trying to encourage me closer in his native tongue. I smiled politely and walked on.
“Do you know that India is rich in spices?”
I recognised the voice behind me instantly. I answered without turning.
“One would think you are a common conjurer the way you appear from thin air?”
“And that India is one of the most populated countries in the world?”
I stopped and turned finding as expected the mysterious Maharani. Her naturally ruby lips already fixed with that infectious smile.
“The two are not without reason.
Maya stepped closer to the stall and pointed as she began whatever lesson she had in mind for me today. It had been just moments and already I was her slave.
“Cloves heat the body from within.
Ginger, increases desire.”
She moved her finger to each in turn.
“Cardamom relieves tiredness.
Fenugreek seeds, bring fire to a man.
And nutmeg will raise his…”
“Is there a point to this?” I interjected before she could say anything which might embarrass me.
“Spices are in the food. Everything you eat or drink here is bringing you closer to understanding. The spices flow through your blood feeding the fire you fight.”
“Then perhaps I should avoid it and eat mutton and potatoes.”
“Or cucumber sandwiches at Buckingham Palace.”
“You mock me.”
“Tell me. Did you not extinguish the fire again last night? Did you not feel the ecstasy? Did you not wish someone else was helping you to that glory as Daksh and Nisha helped one another?”
I started walking as my face coloured yet again.
“It is not polite to talk of such things. Especially in public where we can be heard.”
“Few here speak English. But all will understand what you do not.”
“And I cannot say I care to understand. You have shown me things of such depravity that I care not to think about them any longer.”
“And yet you still quench the fire that burns in you nightly.”
“I do not.” I protested perhaps a little too forcibly.
“Some here would say the English are deceivers. If that is so then you are a poor example. You deceive no one.”
I coloured and looked away from her mocking.
Maya attracted my attention back by manoeuvring me towards a silk vendor. She waved the owner away as soon as he tried to approach with the persistent sales patter they all had. It was clear everyone here knew Maya’s importance and showed deference to her.
“You are wrapped in layer upon layer, restricted by whale bone. Your English decency leaves you stifled and unable to breath.
This is silk. It will keep you warm in the cool season and expel heat in the sun. This is what I wear, a simple rectangle of material wrapped around me as a Sari. Comfortable and un-restricting.”
I couldn’t deny that my clothing was becoming a burden in the heat. But to dress as a native would be the ultimate betrayal of who I was.
“We have silk. We import it from here in exchange for manufactured goods.” I offered.
“But you make handkerchiefs, and dresses for old ladies with it. To be free you have to feel free.
Am I not decently covered in the eyes of the Christian god while still feeling the freedom a Sari brings to my movement?”
I realised then that Maya wore only the red silk garment wrapped around her waist and up over her shoulder.
“You’re naked underneath?” I gasped quietly.
“No matter how many layers you hang from your shoulders you are still naked underneath. But I am free and cool. Can you say the same?”
I could not.
“Shall we drink tea?”
I blinked in shock as she abruptly changed the subject with that same matter of fact calmness she always maintained. Foolishly I let her lead me back to that place which had served us tea previously. A colonial building where servants brought drinks to the mostly English customers on the verandah. At night it was a bridge club but by day it serviced thirsty traders and off duty soldiers.
Tea came in a pot with cups and saucers of fine China, placed on quaint tables covered with cotton cloths. So very English in a foreign land I thought.
Maya poured as she spoke and I looked away not wanting to hear her words and have them poison my mind again.
“You think of the flesh as evil. But it is a divine gift through which to feel the glory of god. Soft and subtle to be excited by the touch of another mortal.”
“Please.” I begged.
“Stop. You are leading me to the gates of hell and I have to admit that no matter how hard I try I cannot fight you.”
I sipped at my drink realising how tea was as important to the Indians as it was to the English. At least it seemed that way from my interactions with Maya.
“Then don’t.”
She took my hand pushing it under the table. She placed it on her leg and I realised immediately she had let the sari fall open. My hand was laid on her bare leg. I froze, unable to grasp the horror of what she was doing to me now.
“Tell me what you feel?”
“Your… your limb.” I stuttered.
I glanced about convinced someone would see through the table.
She gripped my wrist and moved my hand back and forth forcing me to stroke her flesh. I became breathless at the feel of smooth naked skin on my fingertips.
“Oh God.
Stop. Please.”
I wanted to pull my hand away but she held it firm against her flesh. Again the flames were rising from my flower. An evil desire flooding through my veins.
“When was the last time you touched another’s flesh? That you felt the heat of another life?”
“I…”
To my horror I realised I was caressing her thigh without the guidance of Maya’s hand. Now she just grasped my wrist to stop me snatching it away.
“I have watched many girls come to this province in search of husbands. Very few have been successful. Most move on within the year.
And I wonder if those who have been blessed truly feel the happiness that I offer you. Or are they just raising their dresses occasionally for a pleasant feeling with no real quench of their thirst.”
It was as if she could read my mind and see the life I had briefly experienced. Her insight scared me.
I finally succeeded in snatching my hand away and busied myself looking out into the noisy crowd to hide my tremble.
Maya was relentless.
“Tell me you don’t wish to know how it feels to be aroused by another.”
“By another woman. That’s… wrong. It’s ungodly.”
“Is it?
Imagine. The delicate exploration of your intimate places by someone experienced. Does it matter whether they are a man or a woman if they can bring you such pleasure without harming anyone else.”
“Yes. It matters.”
I though of the two Indian girls at the palace, so engrossed in one another without a concern or fear in them. It hadn’t mattered to them, only the joy they brought each other. Was it so different to Daksh and Nisha? Please God why do I feel this way?
I looked down at my tea as I picked up the cup. The tremble that engulfed my being transferred to the milky liquid and try as I might, even from half full, it rippled and dripped over the sides. Quickly I gulped the last of it. I wanted to say it calmed me. Perhaps it did my thoughts. But not my flesh. That burned ever hotter.
“Would it be you?”
I asked disbelieving that word escaped my mouth without my conscious control.
“Would it be you that instructed me?”
I fearful that she might offer me to some stranger in a Bhunga away from the town while she watched.
“Yes.
We can go to a private place now and I will show you delights you have never dreamt of.”
I stared at her. My mind was blank. Magnetic eyes held my gaze, reaching inside my soul to twist it and wake the devil lurking within. I felt intoxicated. I tried to fight it, to wish I was back safe in England.
Fingers brushed over the back of my hand and I feared she would seduce me here in the street if I did not speak.
“Somewhere private.” Was all I said.
Once again I was lost to the illusion this Maharani created.
“Finish your tea.” She said pouring more from the large pot.
“It is another of the delights of India. One the British have taken to their hearts.
“It tastes different here somehow.” I observed.
“Every blend is unique.”
FIVE
I still fought an inner battle even as I allowed this worldly native woman to lead me into the small house. A weedy Indian man of great age greeted her and they spoke at some length while I waited silently like a servant to my princess.
Finally she gave him money and he led us to a room at the rear of the building.
I don’t know what I expected but it was more luxurious than I had thought it would be from outside. Heavy ornate furniture with bowls of fresh petals sat around the sides and in the centre, overlooked by a curtained window, a heavy carved bed gripped me with fear.
I glanced back at the entrance. Just a thick curtain separating us from the rest of the house. And from outside I heard the unhindered cry and chatter of a thousand souls through wide open windows as they passed by.
“It’s not private.” I protested.
“Anyone could come in.”
“We will not be disturbed.”
“People will hear.”
“People do not care as they do in England.”
“Oh God. What am I doing?”
I had already given myself to a man and was quite prepared to do it again. Even considering that it now might be out of wedlock. But was tripping the velvet a sin too far?
“Please God forgive me.” I muttered not meaning for it to be aloud.
Maya didn’t react, instead taking it as tacit approval to begin unrigging me.
I felt the first fastenings pulled apart as I stood expectantly and compliantly. Inside I shook, my knees trembled, and I was frozen with fear as my dress fell away.
“First we should remove these restricting clothes.”
Next my camisole was lifted up over my head, then the corset straps were loosened. I placed my arm across my bosom as she lifted it way. Heat flushed my cheeks and turned my skin the colour of the fire I felt inside me.
“The human form was never meant to be hidden away. Your God did not tell you to cover so completely. Only your own foolishness asks that you do. Is that not the lesson of Eve and Adam?”
“I don’t think you’ve interpreted…” I gave up. Perhaps she had.
“Sit on the bed.”
I did as asked to allow garters and stockings to be peeled away by hands that caressed my legs at the same time.
“Indian clothes are so much simpler.” She said.
She lifted my arm away and my bosom heaved as my ripe fruits came under her gaze for the first time. Her hands closed around my firm young mounds. My white meat was gently squished between her fingers and my nipples sprang forward with a hardness that hurt.
“Oh my.”
She leant in and planted tiny kisses on my creamy hills.
“You can feel the fire inside you.”
“Yes.”
I could. A heat rising in my groin along with an ungodly itch that would not subside. With my dress gone only my knickers hid the source of my welcome discomfort.
“Please.” I muttered, unsure if I was begging her to stop or continue.
Maya tugged at the final garment and it slid down my legs leaving me fully naked before another person for the first time since my childhood. Her hands came back up, sliding over goose bumped flesh that trembled and quivered under her touch. All the while her dark eyes held mine. Her smile mesmerised me, holding me fixed unable to break free.
She took some sweet smelling oil from a small jug on the bedside table before stroking my thighs. I watched, delighting in the contrast of colour between our skin. Hers, the dusky colour of a light chocolate and mine the colour of milk. The oil lubricated her movements, up over my hips, around to the small of my back. My skin took on a silky gleam.
Her face came close and her lips just lightly brushed over mine. I smelt her breath and felt it’s heat on my face. Again that hint of spice as though it was embedded in her very flesh.
“Uhhh.” I was lost to her.
Maya’s hands slid silkily over my neck, hesitating as I quivered. Then down my arms, fingers turning circles at my inner elbows.
“It’s important to learn the sensuous points of the body. The neck, the ears, the inside of the elbow.”
It was true. Each place she named felt as though it was on a telegraph wire to a secret place hidden inside my cunny.
She was down around my inner thighs again, guiding my tightly clamped legs apart. I could not resist. All the while she moved her head to let her long hair trickle over me like a paint brush. Hands continued their journey across my skin, massaging tense muscles and leaving a silken sheen of oil in their wake.
I prayed to feel the delight I had brought myself recently. But now delivered by someone else’s hand. That it was to be a woman’s was almost forgotten. Only the act, the delight mattered.
Maya’s hands gave great attention to my inner thighs leaving me panting for air. Then they passed up by my modest thatch, just disturbing the coarse hair.
“Uhh.”
Upwards over my belly. Fingers dragged delicately around the curve of my breasts until her hands sat on my shoulders. She pushed me back and I fell to the bed staring up at the high ceiling. I followed its curve and studied the intricate mouldings that lined the edge where it met the wall. Anything to take my mind off what would happen next.
Hot breath breezed over my cunny disturbing the small patch of hair that covered it.
“Mmm.”
“You have the symmetry of a lotus flower and your nectar already flows with the power of the Ganges.”
I was struggling now. Still I wanted to end this sin. But I was conflicted. I was possessed by a hunger that I couldn’t fight. If Maya was indeed a Witch her spell was fully cast on me.
“Touch me, please.
End this torture.”
At the edge of my sight I saw her dark hair moving forward. I felt it brush over my hips and thighs, tickling. Tiny kisses on my belly made me spasm and my cunny gushed with its cooling nectar.
The kisses stopped. A moment later her tongue drew up the length of my fairest flower.
“Oh Christ the Lord.”
I shook with pleasure and all doubt drained from me. There was no question now that I needed to reach my critical moment.
Two digits parted my flower, letting nectar leak out into a welcoming mouth. The fingers pushed in, filling the space that only my own digits and George had penetrated with his white staff. This pleasure I felt could only be considered as close to heaven, rather than than the warm pleasant but ultimately unfulfilling sensation George had elicited from me.
My right leg was lifted high and bent back over my torso and those fingers began to work me, massaging my inner flesh with thrusts that grew more and more urgent.
I was exposed to another as never before and I didn’t care.
For a moment I tried to image it was Captain Andrew’s that invaded me. Anything to help deny the truth of this sin. Then I gave in and accepted that I truly did want Maya to fuck me.
“Oh God. Please.
Please don’t stop.” I cried out no longer caring that the old man outside might hear, or that my cries were carried out into the busy street just feet away.
Her tongue flicked at my little boy in the boat. It burned.
“Fuck.”
I was shocked that such a word might escape my lips. But it felt both appropriate for what I was feeling, and immensely liberating.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
I cried out with new found freedom.
Now my heart pounded so loud it rang in my ears. It beat on my rib cage as though it would burst free.
Maya’s fingers were moving so fast that my belly rippled under her attack. The burn in me became a raging inferno and every muscle in my body tensed.
“God.” I screamed.
I lost control of my body, jerking as if a puppet on strings. A wave of euphoria swept over me.
I gasped for air as Maya released me and I lay exhausted. Great gulps of air filled my lungs and I lay in an ecstasy blind to everything around me. After what seemed an eternity my breathing calmed and I opened my eyes.
Maya was peeling away her sari as I watched. Long legs, a toned stomach and small pert breasts. Dark nipples that blended into the brown of her flesh. She was as if in the garden of Eden except for the many rings of gold that adorned her wrists.
I watched with a hunger I didn’t comprehend as thoughts alien to me rushed in a jumble through my mind.
Maya parted her legs just enough that I could easily see the line of her notch. She drew a finger up it slowly, depressing her dark cunny lips then parting them in the wake of her digit. I saw a hint of wet pinkness flash brightly through the darkness of her thatch.
I stared in amazement.
“You’re very beautiful.” I stuttered.
She pushed her dampened finger to my lips and I suckled it, tasting her juices with the joy of experiencing a fresh and exotic fruit for the first time.
“Now you ask yourself what it is like to bring such pleasure to another.”
I could see the glistening droplets on her neat dark fur where they had leaked from her flower, betraying her own need.
“Yes.” I breathed.
I couldn’t lie. No matter how much I thought it a sin, I needed to know more of her taste. To immerse myself in it. I wanted to feel her become a wanton puppet under my touch and to bring her the same flood of bliss I had experienced.
She walked to the side of me and climbed onto the bed. I reached out letting my fingers glide over her long elegant limb as she stretched out and lay down next to me. Her eyes locked on mine and held my gaze.
At the tea house this had frightened and horrified me. Now it felt glorious. Smooth hot flesh as delicate as fine porcelain under my fingers.
“Explore my body.” She said lifting a knee before letting her leg fall to the side.
I was awe struck. There before me her dark triangle broken only by the wound of an axe cut, gleaming with sap in the bright sunshine that tore in through the large windows.
I didn’t hesitate as I leaned over and ran my hand along the inside of her bent leg. I could sense the tremble in her and knew I now had the same power she had demonstrated over me.
“Uhh, uhh.” She gasped.
Her control abandoned her and she became as I was. A mere prisoner of her fire wanting anything that would quench it and end the burning.
I lowered my head, breathing in an aroma of warm musk, perhaps with a hint of citrus. It was pleasant. No. Better than pleasant. Much better. I kissed her inner thigh just close enough that the hairs at the edge of her thatch ticked my cheek. Then I drew my tongue briefly over the area, almost fearful of disturbing the soft dark pad of puffy flesh.
Tiny droplets from the coarse hairs were swept up by my lips and my tongue found more lingering on the pink edges of her cloven inlet.
It truly was the nectar of the gods. Sweetness with a hint of salt. It was as though I was sucking up the juice of a ripe tomato at a Sunday afternoon tea. I savoured it how I would experience a new cocktail for the first time.
“Taste me. Maya ordered quietly.
“Let it linger in your mouth.”
I did as she said before searching out more until I could swallow and sense it in my throat. I reach a hand up to find her breast, a ripe fruit, pliable in my fingers. Smaller than my own but just as firm. Bubbies that sat close to her ribs rising and falling with her hurried breaths. I kneaded with my fingers, sensing her tremors of delight and the sudden jolts as I brushed against the hardened ruby brown tip.
My other hand followed and for what seemed an age I caressed her globes and listened to her murmurs carried on shuddered breaths.
Maya rolled onto her stomach raising her buttocks towards my face until I was inches from her blind cupid.
“Eat me.”
I did as instructed. Devouring her flower with a hunger. Even her small circular round mouth sitting just above her notch gleaned my attention much to my surprise. And even better Maya reacted with joy to my tongue circling and pressing at it.
All sense of sin was flushed from me. I only wanted pleasure and to give pleasure. I found my hands sliding over her limbs and the fleshy orbs of her buttocks, searching out crevices to explore and hovering over any point which sent shivers through this woman.
I reached up under her belly until I found her fruits hanging. Pushing my tongue deep inside her fairest flower, I let the deep ruby tips of her globes brush against my upturned palms.
“Uhhh.” She grasped.
I felt her shudder, then jerk as I squeezed her ripe fruits. Folds of delicate velvet parted as my tongue circled around the entrance of her cock lane. More nectar coated my lips, spreading over my face. Maya smelt and tasted like a fine honey.
I found her little boy and gripped it gently between teeth, flicking and teasing the hot little button. Maya was tensing and I knew she would suffer the sting of pleasure any moment.
Maya began to whimper, her body quivered.
“Mmmmmm.”
Then she bucked.
“Uhh, huh.”
She tore herself away from me and I knew I’d achieved my aim. For a few moments she trembled and jerked in front of me, the flow of power between us reversed. In this instant she was as vulnerable as me. A slave to her own desire.
Finally she calmed.
“Now you begin to understand the joy God gave us with our bodies.”
I stared down at my own sweaty light toned flesh, then to Maya’s darker glistening body. I did indeed feel the joy.
Maya turned and took my face gently in her hands. She kissed me like a lover, her quail pipe invading my mouth to search out my own and join it in a sensuous dance. I didn’t struggle, just accepting the sensation and melting into her body. Our paps rubbed together momentarily easing the ache that invaded my nips.
Saliva trickled from my mouth in an unladylike manner. Sticky strings linked our lips. A messy mixture of fluids I would only have associated with a bunter or hedge whore until now. I didn’t care. Only the pleasure of connecting with Maya’s hot body was important.