Kate and Julia: Abducted in India (9 page)

Shocked once more, Julia watched them slide their lithe, brown bodies into the water and take up position on either side of Jahngir. His big, muscled arms encircled their waists.

“Afia will help you bathe,” he said, giving the girl who had answered the door a gentle push towards her.

“No,” Julia cried, clutching her arms more tightly around herself.

“I can manage alone.”

The girl stopped with a questioning glance at Jahngir, and at his nod held out a sponge to Julia. Heart thumping, she snatched it and pressed it between her breasts. Apparently indifferent, the Pathan turned to the two girls. One began rubbing a sponge over his back while the other, Afia, ran her wet hands up his belly and through the springy hair on his chest.

Julia stared, muscles tense and every nerve strung tight. The girls stood very close to the man, completely untroubled that their bare breasts continually came into contact with his skin or that his big hands were sliding over their naked buttocks and bellies as they worked. Was this what it meant to be a slave girl, Julia wondered, her mind a whirl. A moment later, it spun so fast she thought she would faint.

Jahngir had moved to shallower water, revealing again the flat hardness of his stomach and the bunched muscles of his thighs. The brown-skinned, snake-like thing at his groin was no longer hanging down but curving boldly upwards. And it had grown. Oh my, how it had grown!

Stunned and feeling slightly sick, Julia watched Afia reach out, curl her fingers around the thick shaft and draw the skin fully back from the dark-pink, plum-shaped swelling of its tip. Jahngir gave a sigh and eased himself down onto the pool’s steps with the water lapping around his calves. The two native girls sat at either side of him, and the second girl added her hand to Afia’s in rubbing slowly up and down on the grossly enlarged penis.

Julia snapped her eyes tight shut. She was not so innocent that she knew nothing about sex. Girls at school had talked about it, and she was country bred. She had seen animals mating, though of course she had never watched closely. Her mother had given her a lecture when she was seventeen explaining that men had certain desires she would need to fulfil when she married. These unsavoury urges came upon them irregularly and unpredictably, but satisfying them was one of the inescapable duties of a wife. Julia had been informed it was not the most pleasant of tasks and not one she should expect to enjoy. Indulging any urges of a similar nature that she might experience was not the sort of thing expected from a well-bred young lady and did not speak well of her character. Such excesses were only for a certain type of woman of much lower moral standing.

Julia had taken the lecture very much to heart. What young girl with respect for her mother’s opinions would not? And she had indeed been indulging urges just like those her mother had mentioned for some time with the aid of her fingers. That had changed after their talk.

Understanding that no responsible young woman would act so reprehensibly, Julia had suppressed her unwholesome passions. If they went against convention, they were not for her, however nice the tickling and tingling she could create between her legs might be. Most of the time she was able to resist, but occasionally she had given in to the undisciplined side of her nature, only to find herself feeling guilty and embarrassed afterwards.

She was feeling just that way at that very moment. To her intense shame and surprise, the sight of Jahngir Khan’s muscular body and her brief glimpse of his very upright maleness had reawakened those same sensations she had spent so much of her time ruthlessly subduing.

Jahngir gave another sigh, and Julia opened her eyes a crack only for them to spring wide of their own volition at the sight they beheld.

The girl called Afia had her head resting on the man’s stomach, his hand holding her long black hair out of the way while her mouth moved slowly up and down on the hard flesh of his thick shaft. She was…! Julia felt a warm glow in her sex even as she refused to believe what she was seeing.

Was Afia sucking on the penis? The English girl clapped a wet hand over her eyes. This could not be happening. Surely she would wake soon and find she was safely in her hotel room in Peshawar.

“Now you, Reshmina,” she heard Jahngir say. “Suck my cock.”

It was true, Julia thought, and was stunned by the quiver that suddenly ran through her sex. The girls really were sucking his – what had he called it? His cock? She parted the fingers covering her right eye and watched as Afia removed the cock from her mouth and angled it towards the other girl’s. Before she took it between her lips, Reshmina wriggled her tongue over its fat, pink head. And did it not seem a much brighter shade than it had been, Julia thought with her belly flipping, and even bigger than she remembered it? She must look away, she told herself, but her gaze seemed trapped. Like a rabbit transfixed by a car’s headlights she continued to stare at the disaster fast approaching her.

Only one clear thought penetrated the confusion filling Julia’s head: the Pathan had spoken English to the girls. She had the disquieting feeling that he had deliberately done it to be sure she would be in no doubt about what was happening. Julia turned the eye squinting between her fingers from Reshmina’s bobbing head to Jahngir’s face. He was smiling. And he was looking directly at her!

She retreated from his bright gaze and crouched on the step at her end of the bath. Drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them with the water covering her to her chin, Julia stared fixedly into the depths of the pool. She felt deeply ashamed. Her nipples were hard cones pressing into the fronts of her thighs and she could feel her pussy glowing and quivering with indecent arousal. Her fingers slid involuntarily down her skin and almost reached her sex before her self-disgust drew them back.

Whatever was she thinking? That was the problem, she answered herself. She was not thinking, merely feeling, and that would never do.

How on earth had she let herself get into this awful state over the vulgar behaviour of these uncivilised natives?

Julia shivered and tried not to listen to the moist, slurping noises the girls’ mouths made as they took turns to lick and suck Jahngir’s cock and the soft grunts and sighs he was making in response. It was disgraceful, she thought. They had no right to demean her by making her witness such an exhibition of licentiousness. She looked up as Jahngir suddenly gave a long, gasping moan, arching his back to thrust his hips upwards with his head back and mouth wide. Reshmina had her lips clamped firmly over his shaft, drawing on it until her cheeks hollowed from the suction.

Breathless, the English girl watched the girl’s throat bob once and then again before her head lifted and she turned the glistening cock in Afia’s direction. To Julia’s utter amazement the native girl lapped the thick pearl of semen at its tip onto her tongue, swallowed, then began to thoroughly lick the saliva-covered cock before once more engulfing it with her mouth. Oh heaven, they were starting all over again!

Jahngir Khan rising to his feet and wading back into the pool spared Julia from the humiliation of a repeat performance. He ducked beneath the water and resurfaced with an alarming splash right in front of her. Heedless of his half-hard penis jutting in front of him, he reached out a hand.

“Come along. It’s time we ate.”

Julia retreated to the next step. Emboldened by her outraged modesty, she shook her head and saw his mouth turn down.

“You must come when you are told, little
murgah
,” he said. “Do not defy my orders before others. Now you have undermined my authority and must be chastised for it. Do not make me turn your chastisement into a punishment.”

Julia gulped. Whatever distinction he made between chastisement and punishment, she had no wish to learn what it was. She was suddenly very aware of her precarious position and of how desperately she was clutching the sponge to her breast. Embarrassment and modesty warred with her fear, and lost. She stood up, self-consciously holding one arm across her breasts and the wet sponge before her sex, and backed up the steps. Jahngir followed, still holding out his hand.

“Give me the sponge,” he said, “and put your hands at your sides.”

Never more reluctant, Julia did as he told her, lowering her eyes as his gaze explored her nudity.

“You are very beautiful.”

Was he talking to her? Surprise made Julia raise her head and she saw that he was. His smile sent a little thrill of pleasure through her. She had always thought she might be pretty, though she could not recall anyone ever telling her so, not even her parents. It had not helped her efforts to overcome her shyness.

“You have a small scar,” Jahngir continued.

Trust him to spot her flaw, she thought, deflated.

“I… I had my appendix out when I was small,” she explained, pressing her thighs together. That was how she had recognised the smell of the ether they had used to drug her. The thought reminded Julia that, however attractive the man might be, he was in league with her kidnappers, and the realisation that she found him attractive so astonished her that she forgot she was naked and exposed as he led her to the two girls waiting by the stone bench.

“Let her do it,” Jahngir said when she flinched from the towel Afia began patting on her wet skin, while Reshmina did the same to him. Julia obeyed, though it felt awkward and alien to be dried by someone else, especially when the girl did not hesitate to apply the towel to her breasts and buttocks. She balked when Afia reached it between her legs however, and took over the job herself, turning to hide as much of her intimate parts as she could from the Pathan. Julia immediately regretted rubbing so quickly in her hurry to get it over with, as the tingling in her pussy increased.

She heard Jahngir laugh softly. He was belting a robe of dark blue silk around himself but there was no similar garment for her. The cloak and her chemise had vanished from the marble bench. Afia was holding up a small, rectangular strip of transparent, pale blue muslin. Julia darted a glance at the Pathan.

“New clothes appropriate to your new status. Keep still. The girls will dress you.”

It was as hard to be dressed by hands other than her own as it had been to be dried by them. The muslin was a breast band that fastened at the back with hooks and eyes. Julia’s relief when Afia helped her put on a short, sleeveless jacket of light-blue silk was short-lived when she realized its low front buttoned below her breasts, leaving them bare but for the sheer muslin. Reshmina fastened a thin cord around Julia’s hips, from which were suspended two small semi-circles of the same light-blue silk. They reached only to the tops of her thighs, barely hiding her sex or the cheeks of her bottom.

“I can’t wear this,” Julia said in dismay.

“You do not like them?” Jahngir asked.

The material of the garments was lovely. There was just too little of it.

“They are much too… revealing.”

His soft laugh held the amusement that so often seemed to accompany his words to her. “They are just revealing enough.” He nodded at the two girls who were putting on their own scanty clothes.

“They are meant to enhance your beauty, little
murgah
. To heighten your natural allure, not conceal it.”

“A... allure?” The word was not one Julia had heard often. For a barbarous mountain savage he seemed to know a lot of uncommon English words.

“They will make you more attractive to men, or, more accurately at the moment, to me.”

Julia blushed for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

“You can keep them on or go naked,” he said. “Either way it is time to eat. My stomach grows impatient.”

Anxious not to provoke him, Julia accepted she must wear what she was given. Jahngir walked behind them on the way back to the house and Julia knew with embarrassing certainty that he was watching every sway of her hips and wriggle of her bottom. Her pussy gave a wriggle of its own as she felt the kiss of the breeze on its uncovered lips, and she heartily wished she had at least been permitted some panties.

Along with the native girls and her captor, Julia sat cross-legged on cushions at a low, round table to eat. Still half-terrified, and worn out by the day’s experiences, she had little appetite. Another of the girls, the one who seemed to have angered Jahngir earlier, also seemed indifferent to the many dishes on the table. When the meal was over it was that girl the Pathan turned to as he rose from the table. She hurried to kneel and press her forehead to his feet, and spoke to him in her own language.

“In English, Helai,” he said with a glance at Julia, “so our guest will understand.”

“Forgive me, my lord,” Helai said. “I was wrong to question your wishes.”

“That’s true,” Jahngir replied, “but if it had not been the second time in as many days you would have received only a chastisement.

Instead, I have decided you will be punished.”

“I obey your will, my lord,” the girl said and the tremor in her voice heightened the hollow feeling in Julia’s belly. The Pathan took her arm and she had no choice but to go with him to the far end of the
zenana
. The room must take up most of the top floor of the house, Julia guessed, not so nervous that she did not look curiously into the gaps between the wooden screens that divided its central part as they passed.

Each contained a mattress resting on a raised platform. They were sleeping areas, she realized, more than a dozen in number, though she had seen only six other girls since her arrival.

The area at the opposite end of the long room was a blunt contrast to the part they had just left. There were no brightly coloured wall hangings or bowls of flowers, and no scent of sandalwood and rosewater.

There were no cushions or furniture, except for a large cupboard of very dark wood and a big, elaborately carved chair that stood against the end wall. Julia caught her breath. Above the chair, resting on pegs in the wall, were three long canes, one above the other, each thicker than the one below it, and above them was a stiff, tightly plaited whip of red leather. Her gut gave a sudden lurch. Jahngir had told her she would not be beaten. Was he about to break his promise?