Kate and Julia: Abducted in India (14 page)

Julia had plenty of time to regret it. As the heat of the day and that in her sex and anus grew more intense, she sweated rivers and wriggled as much as the tight, silken cords allowed. Now she understood why Helai had found it impossible to keep still. The minutes felt like hours.

Utterly wretched, she sobbed and whimpered until at last the sound of the girls’ voices on the steps behind her kindled a spark of hope. They fell silent as they filed past her and into the
zenana
. Several long, agonising minutes passed before Jahngir’s heavier tread announced his return.

Afia helped him untie Julia, and when he ordered the girl to take her to the bathhouse she cast aside all modesty and dignity and ran all the way to be free of the horrid discomfort in her bottom. There was a toilet of sorts at the rear of the baths, four holes in the stone floor covered with gaily painted wooden lids. Too distressed to feel any embarrassment, Julia squatted and at last got rid of the fiery ginger. There was a stone trough of running water mounted along the wall nearby. Without hesitation she sank her buttocks into it and heaved a sigh as the cool water flowed over her smarting sex and sphincter.

Afia appeared and laughed, but not unkindly. “That is not the way.” She filled a copper jug at the trough, and with Julia only too glad to bend over and pull her bottom cheeks wide, she poured water into her relaxed anus. The relief was wonderful but even after two more jugfuls had followed the first it was still buzzing.

“The bath now,” Afia said.

Standing thigh deep in the warm water, Julia leaned her hands on the edge of the bath and stuck her bottom out when she was told. To her surprise Afia produced a bar of pink soap, worked up a lather and ran a hand down the cleft of the English girl’s buttocks. She leapt away with a cry as a finger pressed on her anal knot.

The native girl held out the soap. “Do it yourself if you like. All trace of the ginger must be washed away or it will plague you all day.”

Julia tried. It was awkward and uncomfortable to reach back and rub her soapy finger over the tender interior of her anus, especially with Afia looking on. It was also an extraordinary sensation, and to her intense embarrassment, oddly stimulating. Startled, she pulled her finger free and sank her bottom below the water. The whole area between her legs had suddenly begun tingling threateningly.

“That’s enough,” she said hoarsely, sank to her neck in the water to wash the sweat from her skin and stood up.

“My lord was right. He said you have much passion.” Afia smiled, looking from the hard cones of Julia’s nipples to the hairless swells of her pussy-lips.

Julia looked down and felt her cheeks flame. The pink tip of her clitoris had emerged from its concealing folds. “Oh, heavens no!” she wailed. “Oh, this is awful!” She turned her back to hide the evidence of an excitement that had plainly gone much further than she had thought.

Afia’s hand rested on her hip and she shivered as the girl’s left breast pressed against her upper arm.

“No, it is good. A master expects such things.” She turned Julia to face her. “It is not awful that you can feel desire. You should take pleasure in your body whenever you can.”

“No, it isn’t right at all,” Julia protested. “I can resist it.”

Afia looked surprised. “Why would you want to do that? Sex is a wonderful gift. Everyone should enjoy it. It is not good for you to deny yourself its pleasures. You will become ill.”

Julia shook her head. It was pointless trying to explain to a half-civilised native why she should exercise restraint and self-control. As they returned to the house she realized she was not so very clear about the reasons herself. She climbed to the balcony with her belly fluttering at the prospect of facing Jahngir Khan again. At least her apprehension quenched the tingling warmth in her pussy, she thought with relief.

Thank heaven the evidence of her shame had shrunk beneath its hood once more.

The girls were all clothed when she entered the
zenana
– if the revealing garments barely covering their most private places could be called clothes, Julia thought, self-conscious again about her nudity. Afia took some scanty items from a chest and held them up while she eyed Julia. She called the girl named Laila to help her and, glad to have anything that even partially covered her nakedness, Julia let them dress her.

There was a triangle of blue silk held low on her hips by a gold chain and baggy, pale-blue muslin trousers that gathered at the ankles and were horribly transparent. To her total humiliation, Julia discovered there was no seat in the trousers and her buttocks were left entirely bare. She was equally alarmed when Afia had her put on the little, sleeveless jacket of blue silk that did not cover the two, out-thrust mounds of her breasts.

That some of the other girl’s were wearing even less was no consolation.

That Jahngir Khan was not present to see her was – for now.

The native girls had watched Julia with undisguised curiosity while she was being dressed but soon turned their attention back to themselves, arranging their hair and making up their faces before several mirrors that hung on the room’s end wall. They put on a lot of jewellery too, she noticed. Mrs. Winter had told her that Indians liked to wear jewellery, especially gold, and displays that would have been considered overly ostentatious in Britain were seen as quite normal in India.

The girls were lavish with theirs, adding rings to their toes as well as their fingers, bracelets and bangles to wrists and ankles and two, three or more necklaces around their slender necks. The items were all gold, many encrusted with gems that Julia had no doubt were real. If Jahngir’s fortress-like home had suggested he was a man of some wealth and position, the splendour of the jewels with which he bedecked his concubines confirmed it. So why had he chosen to take upon himself the task of training her to be a slave?

Her belly flipped as the awful word filled her head but she had no time to ponder her silent question. A tap at the door was immediately answered by the nearest girl. Jahngir Khan entered the room and Julia faced a horrible dilemma. She dared not try to cover herself after what he had done to her, so should she face him bare-breasted or turn away and instead reveal her naked bottom to his gaze? His dark eyes met hers, and she was left with no choice but to stand facing him as he came towards her. Julia shied away from his outstretched hand.

His smile faded and he raised an eyebrow. “Must I warm your bottom again?”

“No, Master,” Julia said quickly, and held herself still as he rubbed a lock of her blonde hair between finger and thumb. The same finger smoothed down the softness of her cheek and traced a line down her neck to the curve of her left breast. Cringing inwardly, she saw his eyes leave hers to watch his fingertip circle her nipple.

“Such golden hair and eyes of bright blue, and skin so pale and smooth. You truly are very beautiful,” he said.

“M… me?” He had said it yesterday too, but she had not really believed him. Julia had hoped she was pretty. Never had she imagined that anyone could find her beautiful.

He met her eye again. “Surely some man has told you that before?”

She shook her head. She had never sought compliments and most men’s attention had focused on her breasts within moments of her meeting them. That was one reason she always preferred to remain in the background. Julia wished she had the chance now as his warm touch tickled the point of her teat and sent a tremor through her belly.

He lowered his hand. “Afia, make up her face. I’m sure you can enhance her natural beauty.”

Sitting on a low stool before one of the mirrors, the English girl almost choked at her first sight of her own reflection – nearly naked, her bare breasts jutting forward and revealing her embarrassingly hard, bright pink nipples, her slim legs visible all the way to the hip through the sheer trousers, and between them only a tiny scrap of silk that scarcely covered her sex. She watched nervously as Afia transformed her face with paint and rouge and powder, colouring her eyelids bright blue, thickening their lashes and extending the outer corners of her eyes with a dark line of kohl. Julia’s lips were a glossy red pout by the time the native girl turned her attention to her shoulder-length blonde hair, piling it atop her head and fastening it in place with two pearl-encrusted, golden combs.

The Pathan’s reflection appeared behind hers. “A concubine must always be ready to please her master,” he said to her image. “You must spend your time preparing yourself to serve him, oiled and scented and suitably adorned to stimulate all his senses.”

As he spoke, Afia added rich-smelling perfume at Julia’s neck and wrists and armpits. Jahngir stepped closer. Julia trembled as he rested a hand on her shoulder and his thumb stroked the nape of her neck. The blue eyes staring back at her from her reflection widened. She
was
beautiful, as lovely as the darkly exotic and sensual girl who had just clipped pearl-drop earrings to her lobes and fastened a matching necklace around her throat. Julia could scarcely believe it was her own image she was staring at. A warmth glowed inside her as Jahngir continued stroking her skin.

“There is more than just looking beautiful,” he said. “Your body must be prepared also. It must be always welcoming and receptive to your master’s caresses, and willing and eager to receive his cock.”

She gasped and her heart gave a leap. Receive his cock?

“And your mind must be equally receptive,” the Pathan continued.

“You must want to pleasure your lord and to take equal pleasure from him. You must think always of how you will arouse him and he you.

When you bathe or eat, when dressing or undressing, when you go to bed at night or rise in the morning, your thoughts should be on how to best pleasure your lord when he next takes you.”

Julia felt giddy. Her gut was twisting and churning. What he had described was a life devoted to nothing but lust and depravity, to constant, unrestrained sex. To her alarm and consternation her pussy twitched.

Jahngir laughed softly and continued stroking her neck. “You are shocked. I know it is not the way of the British, but the British are not here. In our country you will learn to follow our ways, and I and these girls will teach you.”

Her head was still spinning when Julia took her place with everyone else, cross-legged at a low table, and ate the midday meal. This time the nervous jumping of her stomach did not take away her appetite.

She had eaten almost nothing the day before and the food was welcome despite its unfamiliar flavours.

At first her thoughts dwelled on the Pathan’s frightening words.

He shared the meal and Julia was careful not to look in his direction.

From beneath lowered eyelids she watched the girls as they ate. They were indifferent to their revealing clothing or that their movements continually jiggled a bare breast or exposed more of an ill-concealed sex.

They were all lovely, stunningly so in their make-up and jewellery; exotic and glamorous and mysterious. And so was she. Incredibly, not only had both Afia and Jahngir Khan said so, but she had seen the evidence herself in the mirror. Shy, restrained and timid little Julia Thomas was beautiful.

The knowledge started a wriggle low in her belly. With a jolt of alarm she concentrated on her food.

By the time the meal was over Julia realized she should have been more thorough with the soap. Her bottom was buzzing noticeably again, though not too uncomfortably. What worried her more was that, wary of the possible consequences, she had barely soaped her pussy at all and it was tingling warmly and attracting far too much of her attention.

The other girls reclined on the many cushions heaped on the floor.

Julia was unsure what to do until Afia patted a place beside her and smiled an invitation. Jahngir took his ease on one of the couches nearby.

Suddenly conscious he was watching her bare bottom as she walked Julia hastily sat down next to the girl and concentrated on not looking in his direction.

She had found the unfamiliar and enervating heat hard to cope with since arriving in India. It increased as the sun climbed higher and the afternoon wore on. The girls were silent, relaxing and dozing after their meal. Julia could not sit stiffly upright with her muscles tense and her belly tight for the rest of the day. Shortly, her head began to loll.

Drowsily she leaned back into the cushions and felt her head pillowed on Afia’s breast. It was too much trouble to move. Julia drifted, thinking of nothing, refusing to face her fears about the future, conscious only of the prickling warmth the remnants of the ginger were causing beneath the scrap of silk hiding her sex. Half asleep, she sensed Afia’s hand slide around her shoulder and rest on her forearm. It felt friendly and comforting.

“Orzala, Helai,” Jahngir Khan called softly.

Julia watched through half-closed eyelids as the girls crawled on all fours to the edge of his couch. He was wearing native-style trousers, baggy above the knees and tight around his muscular calves. The two girls removed them with practiced speed and their own brief garments even more quickly. With an indrawn breath Julia saw both girls reach for the swollen baton of the Pathan’s erect penis. She felt strangely languorous, with a torpid feeling of detachment filling her mind that was sparing her from much of the shock and outrage she should have been experiencing. Though she knew she ought to, she did not look away or shut her eyes.

Jahngir turned onto his side. The hands stroking his thickened cock were replaced by lips and tongues as Helai and Orzala took turns to lick and suck the straining length. The English girl’s head moved restlessly against the pillow of Afia’s breast. She barely noticed the warm hand that slid from her forearm to the hollow beneath her ribs.

Julia drew a breath and let it out in a long sigh. Afia’s fingers smoothed softly over her skin to the curve of her breast. Except for the moist sounds of the two girls’ mouths moving on Jahngir’s wetly gleaming cock there was silence. His eyes had narrowed to slits.