Kate and Julia 2: Slave Girls Of The Raj
by Lindsey Brooks
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Lindsey Brooks
Published by Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Chapter 1
Julia’s nipples were no longer bright pink but the deep wine-red of the rouge that Afia had just finished smearing over them. They stood out boldly on the tapering fullness of her breasts; two erect, up-tilted cones that pulsed gently from the friction of the native girl’s fingers.
Staring at the image of the painted face framed by golden blonde hair that gazed back at her from the mirror, Julia felt a thrill of pleasure. Her master had told her she was beautiful and it was true. She looked as strikingly exotic as the darkly lovely girls with whom she had shared Jahngir Khan’s zenana for the last four days. She felt beautiful too, and feminine and desirable in a way that was totally new to her.
With a flip of her belly she eyed the bald pout of her sex in the mirror. Not only did she feel desirable, she also felt desire. It was this place in which she had been imprisoned. Its whole atmosphere was imbued with carnality. During every waking moment she saw, smelled and felt it – the exotic eastern furnishings, the silken cushions piled around the richly carpeted floor, the bare skins of herself and her companions, scarcely concealed by their luxurious but scanty clothing. The air was heady with the scent of roses and jasmine and sandalwood, and always, it seemed, a faint but provocative aroma of female arousal.
It all seemed too incredible to be real. Just a few days earlier Julia had been a lady’s travelling companion accompanying Mrs. Winter, a respectable young widow, on her journey from England to India’s North-West Frontier. With only hours remaining before they reached their destination she and Kate, the lively redheaded girl who had attached herself to them on the voyage from England, had been drugged and abducted by white slavers. Quickly separated from Kate, Julia had found herself handed over to a native Pathan and carried off to his mountain fortress to be forcibly trained as a slave-concubine. Her only hope now was that Mrs. Winter had alerted the authorities and that they were searching for her and Kate, but imprisoned deep in the remote mountains she had little expectation of rescue.
Timid and shy by nature, Julia had suffered agonies of embarrassment as well as intense discomfort as the man she had to call master had stripped her naked, dressed her like one of his houris and forced her to endure the most lewd sexual assaults. And to Julia’s utter shame and humiliation, she had responded by surrendering to her base passions and allowed herself to become aroused by what had been done to her.
The girls spent much of each day making themselves more beautiful for their lord and most of the rest in anticipation of his arrival, each, Julia guessed, with the hope that he would choose her as his bed-partner for the night. Not that Jahngir Khan, she had discovered to her dismay and shock, confined his sexual activities to the hours of the night.
It ought to be boring, at least for his concubines, who did not have the threat of being sold into slavery hanging over their heads as she did, yet the girls never seemed to be bored. Neither did they seem to argue or squabble with one another, as Julia would have expected, though she had only her past experience at an all-girls school to judge by. Rivalries and jealousies had been abundant there. She had thought that six young, healthy women competing for the attentions of a single man would have created even more. Of course, Jahngir’s strict discipline might have something to do with it, but that did not appear to be the main reason. Julia had the impression that it was much more the fact that the girls genuinely liked one another and, more importantly, liked their master too and did not want to disappoint him.
They had not been unkind to her either, even though, she had been stunned to discover, they considered her an uncultured barbarian – just what she had thought about them until she had begun to recognise and understand that they were no such thing. Different to anything Julia had encountered before they may be, but they were far from the ignorant savages she had taken them for in the beginning, and so was their lord and master.
Jahngir had been absent for much of the previous day. Shortly after he had shared the girl’s morning meal, while he was watching Julia standing self-consciously naked in front of a mirror being lightly oiled from neck to ankles by Afia and Laila, he had been called away urgently. It had been nearly dark when he had returned, sweat-stained and dusty.
To Julia, it had seemed inevitable that he had chosen her as well as Saba to accompany him to the bath house, and that the two girls sponging his naked body would produce the startling change in the direction his penis pointed that was a shock to her modesty every time it happened. To her great relief he had selected Saba to suck his cock.
But Julia had not escaped entirely. Jahngir had escorted her to her bed, and in fear and an embarrassing anticipation she had raised her wrists eagerly to have the manacles that he chained her with each night close around them. They had absolved her of guilt when his fingers tickled their way up her inner thigh and toyed deliciously with her tingling sex. Not only had he surprised her by once again planting a kiss on her hairless love-mound and another on her moist-lipped mouth, but also he had asked if he should free one of her hands. Cringing in embarrassment at the implication in the question, Julia had refused.
The result had been another restless night with her pussy making frustrating demands that she could not meet. They had become even more insistent when the lights had gone out, and in the dim glow of the lamp Jahngir lit in the cubicle next to hers Julia had watched through the gaps in the wooden screen as he had taken his pleasure with Saba. The sights and sounds of sex had made her heartbeat quicken and her wrists tug at the steel encircling them.
Why had her mother told her it was an unpleasant task, she wondered. From the noises Saba had made it was clear that she had enjoyed it, even when, amazingly, she had knelt on the bed, reached back to stretch her buttocks wide and let Jahngir Khan slide his long, swollen and very rigid cock deep into her anus. It was then that Julia had turned away, and with a clinking of chains had pressed her hands to her ears and drawn her knees up to her breasts. Even when she had finally slept she had been unable to escape the sensuality in the charged atmosphere of the zenana. Not for the first time, her dreams had been of wetly glistening pussies and huge, rearing cocks.
Laila’s image appeared in the mirror, standing looking over Julia’s shoulder. The girl casually adjusted the folds of the inner sex-lips peeping from between her slit and fastened a tiny triangle of white silk over them with a thin cord around her waist.
“You look much better than when you first arrived, Tsira,” she said with a smile at Julia’s reflection. “You are more like one of us now.”
The smile Julia returned her was uncertain. She had no wish to resemble one of Jahngir’s concubines. She was not a slave.
“Come, you must be oiled,” Afia told her. “We will go to the bath.”
“But you did it here yesterday.”
“Not today,” the girl said flatly.
“Why have the girls started calling me Tsira?” Julia asked as they crossed the garden to the bath. “I know tsir means yellow, for my hair I suppose, but I already have a name.”
“But only a foreign one, which my lord says has no meaning.”
“What difference does that make when it’s what I’m called?”
“A name should mean something,” Afia said. “Mine means ‘vitality’. Reshmina’s means ‘silken’ and Helai’s ‘swan’. Saba’s is ‘morning’ and Laila’s ‘beloved’, and Orzala’s means ‘the brightness of fire’. When you have your own master he will decide your name but until then we will call you Tsira.”
“M… my name is Julia.” She felt a hollowness in her belly as she spoke it. “I don’t want to have it changed, especially not by someone who thinks he can buy and sell me as if I was a cow or a horse.”
“Alas, that is not for you to choose.” Afia smiled at her. “But do not be too downhearted. It may be that you will not find yourself standing on the auction block as you fear.”
“What do you mean? Has something happened? Are the authorities searching for Kate and I?” Julia asked hopefully.
“No, nothing like that.” Afia stopped on the bathhouse steps and faced her. “I can say no more. My lord has said I will be flogged with the switch if I reveal what he told me, and you too. But you are not going to be auctioned, I promise. Now you must promise not to reveal that I have told you.”
“I do. But what is going to happen to me?” Julia asked anxiously.
Afia would not reply. She urged Julia onto one of the cool marble slabs in the bathhouse and began oiling her skin. The scent of sandalwood filled the air, and soon she felt the same sensuously soporific dreaminess in her head that she had the first time the girl had massaged her back and buttocks and thighs. At least this time she was not in danger of being surprised by Jahngir Khan, she thought. Soon after she had awoken he had left, dressed for riding as he had been the previous day, and clearly intent on repeating whatever he had been doing then. Curiosity surfacing through the fuzziness in her brain, Julia asked Afia what it was.
“My lord has gone to aid in the work of building the channel that will carry water to the town,” she said. “There was some problem yesterday which only he could solve.”
“He builds things?” Julia asked, surprised.
“Yes. He studied in England. He is what is called an… engineer?” She spoke the obviously unfamiliar word slowly. “There are wells, but many people draw their water from the river. Sometimes it almost dries up in summer and is no longer fit to drink. My lord is diverting one of the streams in the mountains so there will be water all the time. He is skilful in such things. He built a clinic and brought a doctor from Rawalpindi to care for the sick, and he has given many homes the light that burns without fire.” There was a note of pride in her voice.
“Electricity,” Julia said absently as she absorbed what the girl had said. She had been right in thinking Jahngir was more than an uncouth barbarian, but she had not realised how much more. “He was educated in England,” she said. Then he knew British ways and that women there were not confined and forced to submit. Yet he had still done it to her.
“He was there for several years,” Afia said. “And he and his brother were visiting England when the revolt happened and his father was killed. They came back with the British to arrest their uncle.”
“There was a revolt?”
“The Prince was killed by his brother who wished to rule in his place. The Prince’s sons got help from the British to punish their uncle’s treachery. He died in the fighting.”
Julia rolled onto her side and looked hard at the native girl, the relaxing massage forgotten. “Then… then Jahngir Khan is a prince?”
“No, his brother is now Prince. My lord is always very insistent about that. Do not speak about what I have told you. He would not admit it but his uncle’s plot to overthrow my lord’s father is a sore subject with him. Since his brother became ruler he is now in the same position his uncle was with their father.”
“And he thinks people see him in the same way,” Julia said, “as a potential rival for his brother’s throne.”
“Perhaps some do. There are always those who are discontented with the way things are. My lord has done much to improve the lot of the people but he is always careful to make sure his brother gets the credit too.”
“Is there rivalry between them?” Julia asked.
Afia shrugged. “There is some, I’m sure. That is the way of brothers, I think. But my lord has never done anything disloyal, nor ever would. If anything, he tries too hard to prove he has no ambition to become ruler. I think that is why he is so bad-tempered sometimes, especially now. He hoped to have the water supply ready for the anniversary of his brother becoming Prince but the work has gone more slowly than expected. There are only a few days to go and it will not be ready in time.”
Julia gave a sudden gulp. There were only a few days left for her too. Afia may have told her she would not be auctioned but it was still plain that Jahngir Khan meant her to be a slave. So whose slave was she to be? As the question arose in her mind so did a sudden suspicion and it was one which, to her great surprise, made her heartbeat quicken.
“Lie on your back,” Afia said, and soon Julia surrendered again to the languor the girl’s rhythmic rubbing created, even when she massaged the firm, yielding fullness of her breasts and ran her slick palms over her ribs to her belly and the fronts of her thighs. Afia’s fingers moved gently to and fro on the soft skin of the insides of the English girl’s thighs, drawing ever closer to the pouting crescents of her sex-lips. Julia stiffened, eyelids flickering open. The native girl’s dark gaze met hers.
“Relax. You are to be pleasured. My lord has ordered it.”
“Oh, no, not again!” Julia wailed. “You’re a girl. It isn’t right. I don’t want you to.” She groaned, and clamped her thighs on Afia’s finger as it tickled her hairless slit.
“You say that but your body does not agree,” Afia said.
“I know,” Julia groaned dejectedly. Her nipples had been hard as pebbles from the moment she had awoken, and her pussy had been tingly and moist long before the native girl first touched her body.
“I brought you here so the others will not see. I know it is harder for you when they are watching.” Afia smiled. “It must happen, little golden hair. My lord has said so. You may as well enjoy it.”
Julia swallowed. There were no manacles to chain her wrists, no hands to hold her and force her to surrender. “Wh… what if I refuse? I know I will be punished. What about you?”
Afia nodded. “I would not have obeyed my lord’s order.”
Gritting her teeth, Julia gripped the edges of the marble slab. “You must do it then.”
It felt lovely. Somewhere amid the wonderful sensations Afia’s slender fingers created in the velvety walls of her pussy and the shivering thrills running through her upright clitoris, Julia lost her hold on the marble and discovered her own hands roving over her oily nakedness, squeezing her breasts and rubbing the pulsing hardness of her nipples. She could not stop herself. Nor, she realized, building towards her climax as Afia teased the ridge of her pleasure spot, did she want to. Julia came with a long, gasping sigh and a shuddering whimper, back arching and hips writhing as ecstatic spasms tickled and wriggled through her pussy. With her breasts still heaving, she felt a gentle tug on her wrist.
“Get up. Now it is your turn to pleasure me.”
“What?” Julia’s belly went tight as Afia drew her to her feet. Her knees struggled to support her. “Y… you mean…?”
My lord has ordered that too.” The native girl took her place on the massage table. “You must make me come.”
“But….” Julia realized that Jahngir Khan had been entirely serious when he had told her he would make her do it. She remembered the awful fire of the ginger he had forced into her anus. He may not have beaten her but his methods of discipline were almost as frightening as the cane and perhaps only a little less distressing. She looked down at the naked girl. The cones of her pinkish-brown nipples thrust stiffly from the peaks of her big, firm teats. Her eyes were bright, their pupils dilated. A fine sheen of sweat coated her pale brown skin and the scent of arousal clung to her. She had been as excited by what had happened as Julia was. “I… I’ve never….” Julia swallowed nervously.
“It’s easier to pleasure another girl than it is a man,” Afia said, breasts lifting as she took a deep breath. “Just do what you like to do to yourself.”
Anxious, Julia moved closer to the marble slab. Yet, she was curious too. Would Afia react to her touch the same way she had to the native girl’s? Would her pussy feel the same as hers, and would it tingle with excitement if she slipped her fingers inside? Would Afia squirm and wriggle her hips too?
Julia felt a stab of guilt as she watched her hand reach out and rest on the warmth of the girl’s soft-skinned belly. Her mother would be horrified if she knew what she was contemplating. She had said only a certain kind of woman would give in to her baser desires, but Julia did not believe Afia was that sort and neither did she think it of herself. Her reaction to the girl’s teasing fingers had been perfectly natural and inevitable.
Afia’s hand closed over hers and pushed it downwards until it rested on her moist-lipped sex. Julia let it stay there. She had seen and heard Jahngir making love to the other girls. Her mother had been wrong about it being a chore. Suddenly convinced she had also been wrong about giving in to the pleasure, Julia stroked a fingertip over the pink, puffy edges of the inner labia protruding from between Afia’s outer ones. The girl gave a little quiver.
“Do… do you like girls?” Julia asked, driven by her need to know. “Better than men, I mean.”
“Oh, no! There is nothing so good as a strong man, if my lord is anything to judge by. But there is pleasure to be had from a woman’s touch too, when he permits.” She gave a soft gasp and rubbed the swollen crescents of her sex-lips against Julia’s hand. “Now, would you please put your fingers inside me? It is very frustrating to feel them so close.”
“My mother says sex is something for men to enjoy and women to put up with,” Julia continued, trying to pretend she had not just slipped her middle finger into the damp, slick warmth of Afia’s pussy. “She says women are not meant to take pleasure in it unless they are the lowest sort.”
The native girl made a sound between a laugh and a grunt as she pushed against the penetrating finger. “Then she has not served you well. Sex is the greatest of pleasures, for men and women both. She must be a very sad woman to believe anything else.”
“She is,” Julia said with her chest tightening, “though not because of that.”
“Ooh! Give me another finger,” Afia gasped, “and rub me here.” Her hand chafed her clitoral hood. Catching her breath at the enormity of what she was doing, Julia slipped a fingertip into the fleshy folds and felt immediately the resilience of the hardened bud.
“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” Afia said breathlessly. She squirmed. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as she lost herself in the pleasure. Julia knew exactly how she felt. She really was doing it, she thought, as her fingers slid deeper into the wet heat of the native girl’s sex and stroked rapidly on its velvety walls, seeking Afia’s pleasure spot. And all the while she was flickering her fingertip over the white-tipped, pink nub of the girls erect clitoris.
“Oh, mother forgive me,” Julia muttered guiltily as her pussy tingled with its own heat and the native girl wriggled and gasped under her touch while the ripe odour of her arousal filled the air. An abrupt up-thrust of her hips and a warm flood of juices over Julia’s hand told her she had orgasmed. As Afia’s pussy clenched around her fingers, she kept them moving, well aware that it would heighten the girl’s pleasure. Suddenly filled with shame at how far she had allowed herself to go, Julia pulled her hand away and stepped back. Her naked body met something very large and warm and solid. Startled, she turned, saw a broad, hairy chest directly in front of her, and looked up in fright into Jahngir Khan’s smiling face.
“I am pleased to see my orders are being obeyed,” he said. The Pathan was wearing jodhpurs and tall riding boots, and holding a dusty shirt in one hand. Julia’s erect nipples were pressing into his chest. She pulled away, and felt the hard marble table against the small of her back. She had expected him to be away for most of the day. Instead, he had returned in time to watch her manipulate Afia to her climax. With a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach, Julia felt her cheeks flame with a fierce blush.
“Has your work gone well, my lord?” Afia asked as she got to her feet.
Jahngir pulled a face. “It progresses once more but it could be as much as three weeks before it is finished. The aqueduct will not be ready in time. That is why I must have another gift to present on the day of the anniversary.” He went to the stone bench beside the bath and began pulling off his boots. Afia hurried to help. Julia remained where she was.
“Return to the zenana, Afia. The little murgah will help me bathe.” He crooked a finger at Julia and a shiver ran through her as the native girl left her alone with him. “Do you forget the penalty for disobedience so soon?” Jahngir asked, no longer smiling when she continued to keep her distance.
She approached him warily. Her shyness had resurfaced the moment she had set eyes on him and so had her fear, but she knelt when he told her to and helped him remove his other boot.
“The trousers now,” he said.
With trembling fingers she loosened their buttons, very conscious of the large bulge beneath the material. The Pathan slid them down his muscular thighs. He wore nothing beneath and the brown-skinned length of his half-upright penis was suddenly pointing directly at Julia’s face. A tremor tickled through her sex. Shocked, she looked away, but he drew her to her feet and led her down the steps into the warm, steaming water of the bath. He dunked a sponge and held it out.
“Hurry,” he ordered when she hesitated. “Time is short. Yesterday was wasted as far as training you was concerned. Today we will make up for it.”
Julia rubbed the sponge over his broad shoulders and chest, afraid to move it lower and afraid of being punished if she did not. But most of all she feared the tingling excitement that was growing within her once again. Her fears warred with each other, but she had known all along that she had no choice. She moved the sponge over the ridged muscles on Jahngir’s stomach, wincing each time her forearm came in contact with the now fully erect cock straining upwards from his groin. Below it, she could see the sac of his scrotum bobbing on the water’s surface. The sudden temptation to reach down and touch it made her look away, disgusted with herself.
His fingers pressing her jaw, turned her head towards him, and dark, intense eyes looked deep into hers. She gulped. He plucked the sponge from her fingers, grasped her wrist and guided her hand to his up-curved cock. Julia gave a startled gasp, and she found she could not tear her wide-eyed gaze from his. Heart thumping, she curled her fingers around the penis as she had seen the other girls do. It was rigidly erect, powerful, commanding. Somehow it seemed natural to move her hand up and down on the rearing flesh. Jahngir’s eyes narrowed and he reached for her breasts. She looked down as his wet fingers rubbed the dark-red rouge from her nipples, revealing them bright pink and boldly erect. Julia’s belly flipped and her pussy prickled. Her tentative hold on the warm, thick cock tightened. Its head too was bright pink, taut and shiny in the sunlight coming through the open-fronted bathhouse.
The sudden pressure of Jahngir’s hand on her shoulder made Julia sink to her knees with the water lapping around her breasts. She felt mesmerised by the straining shaft before her eyes. It seemed to pulse beneath her fingers.
“Suck me,” the Pathan said.
Julia parted her lips and felt the resistance in the rigid cock as she pulled it down to her lips. They parted. She leaned towards the smooth, rounded head. It touched her mouth. Sanity returned and Julia leaped up and fled. Jahngir caught her before she even reached the steps of the bath. He dragged her back with one hand around her waist while the other dealt her a stinging smack on her bottom.
“Ooh, don’t!”
“Be silent,” he said, “and stand straight with your arms by your sides.”
She had been about to cover her sex and breasts but stopped her movements as she saw the anger flashing in his eyes.
“So, you think it is right for your master to give you pleasure but you refuse to do the same for him?”
“None of it is right,” Julia cried, surprised she was ready to argue. “You shouldn’t be touching me at all, or making me do those awful things. You’ve lived in England. You know it is wrong to treat a white woman like this.”
“It seems Afia has been doing more than just pleasure you,” he said dryly. “But whatever the colour of your skin, you are a woman and meant to be ruled by a man. I know many whites see sex as sinful and feel guilt for taking pleasure in it, but that is not the way here. Jefferson was right about overcoming your cultural inhibitions. I had not expected them to be quite so strong. But they will be overcome, little murgah. If I have to beat them out of you, you will be ready on the appointed day. You will be a trained and willing slave girl.”
Julia trembled at the anger and determination in his expression, and felt her utter helplessness in the face of his strength and power.
“Besides,” he continued, “it is plain that you do find pleasure in the ‘awful things’ done to you. I don’t believe you are half so set against them as you pretend.”
“That’s not true. I… I can’t help what I feel. Any woman would be the same if it was forced upon her as it has been on me.”
“Forced? Perhaps to some extent, but not so much as you want to believe, I think. Let’s see, shall we?” He pointed to the floor at his feet. “Kneel.”
“Oh, don’t!” Julia pleaded, certain he was going to make her suck his big shaft.
“Do as you’re told. Have you forgotten you call me ‘Master’? Do you imagine my orders are to be obeyed only when it suits you?”
She did not. Belly fluttering, she sank to her knees.
“Spread your thighs more.”
Julia shuffled them wider, face burning with embarrassment as his gaze went to her exposed sex. To her surprise, he sat down on the stone bench several feet away. Did she dare hope? Would he spare her the horrid ordeal?
“Now I want to see some masturbation,” Jahngir said.
Julia’s mouth fell open. He had merely spared her one trial to make her suffer another. Her heart seemed to shrink in her breast.
“You have already displeased me and will be punished for it,” he said when she made no move. “Do not displease me further.”
The promise of punishment and the threat of more were enough. Cringing inwardly, Julia slid a hand between her legs and pushed her fingers into her pussy. It was still wet from her orgasm and much more responsive than she would have wished.
“Keep your thighs spread,” Jahngir barked as they automatically tightened on the hand at her sex.
Soon, Julia was breathing hard and could feel the trickle of perspiration over her skin as the quivers in her pussy grew stronger and faster. Her big breasts jiggled from the back and forth motions of her arm, and she could not stop her hips rocking in rhythm with the thrusts of her fingers as she rubbed them ever more eagerly over the sensitive membranes of her sex.
It was wonderful and horrible too when every move she made and every gasp and whimper she gave were under the Pathan’s stern scrutiny. Each time she tried to lower her eyes from his, he tersely ordered her to look at him and she was too afraid to disobey. She was close to coming again when he made her stop, and he knew it as surely as she did.
Jahngir got to his feet and stood very close to her, his hard cock almost level with her eyes. “So, I forced you to touch yourself, but was it I who made you do it with such enthusiasm?” His hand on her head made Julia start as he tilted he face up. “Are you ready to suck me now?
Breathless, she nodded.
“And so you will, but not until I impress upon you that you will obey me instantly. I have made allowances for your English ways, girl, but there is no more time for that. You will learn what you must and you will learn it quickly, do you hear?”
“Y… yes, Master.” Again Julia could not drag her eyes from his uncompromising stare.
“Come then.” Ignoring his scattered clothes, he strode naked out of the bathhouse.
She rose quickly and hurried after him towards the zenana.
* * * * *
“Ooh, what are you doing to me?” Kate cried. She squirmed against the horribly confining leather straps on her body and felt the chafe of the thick leather collar Ross had buckled around her neck. It was chained to a wooden rail behind her. Her arms too were bound, straps at wrists and elbows holding them in a reversed praying position at her back and attached to the same rail as her neck. Cutting into her flesh above her breasts was another strap that ran under her armpits and secured her tightly to a second rail behind her.
“I’m going to show you what Jefferson would have done if it had been him you had threatened to shoot,” Ross said as he finished buckling a strap around her left thigh. He had placed it very high, as he had the one on her right, with both of them biting into her skin on either side of her pussy-lips and pulling them as well as her legs apart.
“Ooh, that’s awfully tight,” Kate groaned.
“It needs to be. We don’t want you jerking around and injuring yourself.”
Her belly flipped at the implication in his words. “Oh, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. Really I am.”
“You’re sorry now,” Ross said. “You weren’t when you pointed that pistol at me. There’s a lesson for you, little miss. Never aim a gun at a man unless you intend to use it, especially if that man is me.”
“How do you know I wouldn’t have?” Kate asked, a flash of temper rising through her fear.
His forbidding expression vanished in a grin. “I know. I reckon you would shoot if your life was threatened. You’re a brave little thing, after all. But even if the gun had been loaded, you wouldn’t have fired.”
Frightened, resentful and very uncomfortable though she was, Kate somehow still managed to be pleased that he thought she was brave. He was right too. She had never intended to shoot him. The sight of his whip in his hand made her catch her breath as he reached to two brass handles on the frightening device to which he had bound her. It was made of wood, a rectangular frame within a frame, one resting solidly on the floor, the other fixed to it by a large brass pivot at either side. The ex-soldier turned the handles beside each pivot, and Kate’s heart leapt when the inner frame swung back and forth as it was unlocked from the outer one.
Ross tilted it and she gave a startled cry as her body angled forwards. Her feet rested on the lower bar of the inner frame, strapped at ankles and knees as tightly as they were at her thighs. Kate felt some of her weight transfer from her legs to the strap above her breasts and a wooden bar that crossed the frame at her belly, in line with her hips. The collar around her neck pressed against her throat and she had to force her head back, increasing the strain on her pinioned arms and shoulders. It worsened as Ross tilted the frame further and she felt the weight of her breasts hanging down beneath her. He moved a hinged bar on the frame across her chest, two lengths of wood joined at each end by a big brass bolt topped by a large wing nut. They locked in place above and below her breasts, and she flinched as his hands firmly pulled her downward-pointing teats between the two bars.
“Oh, no” Kate whimpered when he began tightening the wing nuts joining the wooden lengths to each other until she hissed in pain. Ross tilted the frame upright, easing the pressure on her neck and belly, and she was able to look down as he locked it in place with the handles.
“No, please.” The bars were tight against her chest, the flesh of her breasts bulging grotesquely between them and their pale skin already mottled pink and beginning to darken. They hurt, and they looked horribly, frighteningly vulnerable. At their tips her nipples were swollen and puffy.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” Ross said, giving one of them a tug.
“Ooh! Yes, Sir,” Kate whined.
“It’s ‘Mister Ross, Sir’ when I’m punishing you. Remember?”
“Yes, Mister Ross, Sir,” Kate answered quickly.
“Aye, you’ve disappointed me, little miss. I told you there isn’t much time. Just enough for you to learn the basics, really. But I thought you had listened to reason and all the time your head was still full of silly ideas about escaping.” He let the short tail of his whip slide over his left palm and swing free. “You know there’s no chance of that now, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mister Ross, Sir.” Racing though it was, Kate’s heart felt leaden with despair. She braced herself for the first stroke and her breath escaped in a rush as she heard the door to the mirrored room behind her open and his footsteps retreating. Belly fluttering wildly, she waited.
Ross reappeared. “I said your backside needs widening a bit. We’ll start on that at the same time.” Dangling from one hand by three lengths of cord was a conical piece of ivory about six inches long. From a rounded tip no more than a quarter-inch across it widened gradually to at least two inches at its base. Attached at the broader end was a metal ring to which the three cords were tied. Kate gulped. The thing was shiny with oil, and from what he had said she had no doubt about where he intended to put it.
“No, you can’t. You mustn’t,” she said desperately. “Oh, please Mister Ross, Sir!” She jerked as his whip stung her left buttock.
“Nothing you say is going to change what happens, little miss, so you may as well save your breath. If you hadn’t been so impulsive you wouldn’t have ended up like this. But you just couldn’t resist grabbing the gun, could you, even though you had no idea what you would do next? If it had been loaded and if I had followed your orders, do you really think you would even have got across the compound, let alone anywhere near Peshawar?”
Kate did not reply. She knew she had acted without thinking. It was far from the first time. The same impulsiveness had made her attach herself uninvited to Mrs. Winter and Julia, and coupled with her yearning for adventure had brought her to the extremely uncomfortable and frightening position she found herself in at that moment. She squirmed as Ross’s arms encircling her caused a painful tug on her trapped and squeezed breasts.
“Best keep as still as you can,” he warned as he fastened a thin belt around her waist and moved behind her. She felt his fingers touch her skin at the back of the belt then slide to the rounds of her bottom cheeks and draw them apart. Reflexively, her anus tightened. “You’d better relax if you don’t want it to hurt,” he said.
Though she was expecting it, Kate still could not help lunging forwards when the tip of the ivory cone pushed against her sphincter. The fingers spreading her anal cleft let go and a second later tickled over her pussy-lips and pushed between them.
“Oh! Ooh!” Impossible though it was in her tight bondage, she still tried to wriggle as Ross mercilessly teased her sex. Instantly she felt the oiled ivory push hard against her quivering knot. The puckered little entrance yielded and her breath escaped in a whoosh as the cone slid into her anus. “Ooh, ooh, no!” Kate wailed as the broad end stretched her rear opening and held it that way.
Ross stopped rubbing her pussy, moved in front of her, pulled the two remaining cords attached to the unusual dildo up on either side of her sex-lips and tied them to two iron rings on the front of her waist belt. The third was already fixed to the back, the three together drawn tight and holding the ivory so it would neither slide all the way inside her nor allow her to force it out. That knowledge did not prevent her anus from trying to clench and clamping hard around the hard cone. A trembling tickle ran through her rectum and another through her sheath. A heartbeat later the sharp slap of leather on bare skin ended in a scorching streak of pain to her bulging left breast, followed immediately by another across the right one. The aching in her teats that being crushed between the wooden bars was causing was joined by a fiery stinging.
“Ow! Ooh, that’s awful!” Kate cried. “Ooh, it hurts so much!”
Ross paused and pointed to the rack of canes and switches on the wall nearby. “That’s what Jefferson would have used on you. Any one of them would hurt a damn sight more than my whip. You should be grateful it’s me punishing you and not him.”
Resentful and in pain, Kate could still be glad it was not Jefferson dealing her the blows. The ones Ross gave her were bad enough. The whip seemed to come at her from all directions at once, smacking onto her helpless teats, making them bounce and buzz with burning pain. The old soldier never missed. Every sharp, fierce stroke landed squarely on the distended flesh nipped between the wooden bars, sometimes just the split tip of the leather, sometimes its full length. Several times it scored Kate’s tender nipples, making her cry more loudly and squirm in her straps at the ferocity of its bite. Yet, even as her body ached in its confinement and the torment in her teats made her tears flow, she knew Ross could have hit a lot harder if he had chosen to.
When he finally stopped the blows, Kate hung in her bonds, her legs weak and her breasts on fire, breathing raggedly and with sweat streaming down her shuddering nakedness.
“Right, I’m off outside for a smoke,” he said. “When I come back it’ll be with a switch for your backside.” His familiar stern frown was on his face as he looked at her. “You blink away those tears, little miss, and ask yourself if you want to behave in future or if you want to go through this again.”
He disappeared through the door behind her and she heard it close. Kate already knew the answer to the question. Every heaving breath she took heightened the smart of her tortured teats. A glance down revealed they were fiery red and her nipples were swollen and throbbing. She very definitely did not want to experience anything like it again. Her belly tightened. Ross had just told her it was not yet over. He meant to treat her poor, defenceless bottom in the same way.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing as shallowly as she could, vainly trying to ease the painful pulling on her trapped breasts. A tormenting minute or two passed very slowly. Kate heard the door open but it was the one in front of her, not the one behind. She opened her eyes. Her sharp intake of breath stoked the fires in her breasts as she stared horrified into Jefferson’s forbidding features.
Chapter 2
“What the hell’s going on here?”
“N… nothing, M… Master,” Kate stammered, quailing under his angry stare. There were some occasions when Ross frightened her and others when he did not, but she was terrified of Jefferson all of the time.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled. “Sergeant Ross wouldn’t put you there for nothing. What have you done?” He prodded the tip of the varnished bamboo cane he always carried into the plump swell of her love-mound.
Kate’s mind raced feverishly. “I don’t know. R… really I don’t.” With a glimmer of hope she added, “He’s just outside. He can tell you, Master.”
The man eyed her reddened breasts, which were purpling now from lack of circulation under the bite of the wooden bars. “He doesn’t need to. If he’s done this, it must be something serious.” He walked a circle around her helplessly bound figure. “Ah, he’s stretching your arse, I see, but he hasn’t flogged it yet.”
Kate’s heart leapt as Jefferson paused by the rack of punishment implements. He looked into her face and she shuddered at his cruel expression. Ross had said he was a bitter man. She could see it in his merciless grey eyes as they stared into hers.
“Impertinent girl! We needn’t wait for Sergeant Ross. You’ve been rebellious since the beginning and you’ve just lied to me twice. That’s reason enough to give you a good thrashing.” The lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth deepened as he smiled coldly. “One I’ll make sure you don’t forget.”
Terrified, her body aching and breasts throbbing, gut churning horribly and her heart pounding in her ears, Kate opened her mouth to plead. Several things stopped her. Her breath seemed trapped in her throat, preventing speech, and she knew, too, that it would do no good. Mostly, however, it was because Ross had called her brave and she was suddenly stubborn enough to prove that he was right.
Even so, she almost pissed herself when she saw Jefferson take a fearsome-looking whip from the rack and bend its stiff leather between his hands until it creaked. From its cord-bound handle to its rounded tip it had to be three feet long, two heavy strips of brown leather stitched together along their edges and widening over the last foot of its length into a long tongue that was not just broader than the rest but thicker too. As Jefferson stood behind her, Kate steeled herself for the torment she knew was coming.
It was still an awful shock. The blaze of pain that followed the first sickening crack of leather on her bare bottom was incredible. Jaw clenching tight, Kate somehow managed to choke back the shriek that was trying to escape her so that nothing more than a guttural croak got through her gritted teeth. A thousand needles simultaneously piercing her flesh could not have hurt her more than the second stroke. Still she fought the need to cry her pain and gave a half-stifled grunt as her buttocks bounced under the scorching fire of the impact. Torment greater than she had ever felt before flared across her tortured rear-cheeks.
Only then did she realize that even Jefferson had held back when he had caned her that first day. This time he was not sparing his arm or her ravaged flesh. His third lash brought more tears to her eyes, and with the next they flowed freely down her cheeks as the pain seared her tender skin and started a fierce throbbing deep in the muscles beneath. It was agonising, and growing worse with every wicked bite of the whip’s long, broad tongue.
At the fifth stroke, Kate’s resolve faltered, and with the sixth scorching like a licking flame through the flesh of her bottom it deserted her completely. She threw her head back, opened her mouth and cried her pain aloud. She shrieked at every savage stroke after that, jerking and writhing in her tight straps, helplessly and horribly exposed to the whip’s cruel work. Surely her skin was ripped to pieces by now and the vicious leather was tearing into the tender tissues of the flesh beneath, carving and biting deep. The thought filled Kate with a fresh terror so intense her bladder betrayed her and she let go a little squirt of urine as she squirmed in the aftermath of another agonising lash.
“What the…?”
She heard the exclamation amid the dying echo of her last scream. Another blow landed, a glancing one it felt like, though it still blazed like fire.
“No, Captain, that’s enough,” Kate heard Ross say from behind her. “Have you forgotten there are only a few days before she’s sold? We’ll never get the full price if she’s covered in welts and bruises.”
“What did she do?” Jefferson rasped.
“Nothing much. She doesn’t like swallowing come. I put her in there just to show her what to expect if she doesn’t get a taste for it soon. I only meant to switch her.”
“She’s insolent, and she’s resisting too much,” Jefferson said. “She needed a thorough lesson.”
“Maybe so, but you put her training in my hands, Captain, and I’d be obliged if you’d leave it there unless you’re not satisfied with the way I’m doing it.”
“What? No, of course I’m satisfied. I’ve every confidence in you, Sergeant.”
“Well then, I’d like to get on with it, if you’re finished, Sir. I’d better do something about her arse or she’ll still be marked on the day of the sale, and we don’t want that.”
“Yes, quite. Excuse me for interfering,” Jefferson said. “I should have known you had everything under control. It’s just that I have a… particular interest in this one, and the girl I let Jahngir Khan take. I hope he’s making a proper job of things.”
“Aye, I’ve noticed, Captain. And I’m sure Jahngir Khan knows what he’s doing, him having a particular interest too, as you might say.”
If Kate had not been so distressed and hurting, she would have wondered what the ‘particular interest’ was, but with her mind swamped by pain the men’s words were forgotten the moment she heard them. The man Ross called Captain left without even a glance in her direction. The old soldier dropped the whip he had taken from Jefferson’s hand and unfastened her as quickly as he could. She slumped against him the instant she was free, struggling to stay on her feet.
Carefully avoiding contact with her flaming backside, he scooped her up, carried her to his bedroom and laid her gently face down on the bed. Kate whimpered at the pressure on her tortured breasts but it was the blazing agony in her buttocks that kept her weeping and sobbing as Ross hurried from the room. He was back in minutes, only a blur through her tears as he knelt at the bedside. She heard water sloshing and something blessedly cool touched her tormented backside.
“The ice-water will help keep down the bruising,” he said, “and I managed to stop him before he split your skin.”
Kate gave a heartfelt sigh of relief. Her buttocks felt raw and she had been sure they were torn and bleeding. She felt Ross’s hand lift a corner of the cloth covering them.
“But only just, by the look of things. I’m afraid your bum’s going to hurt for a while, little miss. You have a sleepless night ahead of you, I’m thinking. Now, let’s cool your tits off.” He lifted her enough to slip a cool cloth under her. She shivered, suddenly hot and cold, as she lowered her breasts onto it.
“If I’d known Jefferson was back I’d never have put you in that damned thing,” the ex-soldier said. “I didn’t expect him until tonight. He’s been down in Peshawar picking up another girl. I’d have thought he had enough to do dealing with her without interfering elsewhere. He’s never in a very good mood but for some reason it’s been worse since a message came from Peshawar about you and your friend. You’d think he’d be pleased at the prospect of selling a couple of beauties like you and her, wouldn’t you?”
Ross kept talking even after Kate’s tears dried up and her sobs subsided. For a long time she was sunk too deep in the fiery throbbing of her bottom to pay much attention, but eventually his constant soaking of the cloth with ice water seemed to have a lasting effect. The pain still pulsed through her buttocks but the shock had worn off sufficiently for Kate to listen to what he was saying.
He talked of his army days and the places in India he had seen and the things he had done on and off the battlefield. It was all new to Kate, a glimpse of the underbelly of the British Raj that she had never even known existed while she had lived within the protected cocoon of upper-class colonial society. Much to her surprise, she found it interesting. There had certainly been no lack of adventure in the old soldier’s life so far, and he had already made it clear that he was not done with it yet.