His Little Courtesan (4 page)

"How did I
cause him pain? I did nothing but stay at home and wait, like a bloody
fool."

"His need
for you, and the conflict of his role in your life, brought him much pain and
sleepless nights. Did he perform the ritual when he made love to you the first
time?"

"What ritual?"

"There are many, Little Monkey, each to heighten
the awareness of love. You have been taught that there are the five senses to
be stimulated to enjoyment, which is the reason we are instructed in the arts
of massage, dancing, and music, and also employ the use of the mind. It is all
to bring balance and harmony to every aspect of the relationship."

"I have learned many of those skills already, and
consider myself fairly proficient. They have not enhanced or done anything to
improve my relationship with that cur."

"Place your anger and bitterness onto a plate and
listen to my words with care." Rama squeezed her hands. "The arts and
education bring discipline to the body, spirit, soul and mind. They provide
balance between the artistic and the necessity; the sensual and the
intellectual. Your harmony was disrupted because you disobeyed your
instructions. You had the option to withstand physical pain, which would
quickly resolve, or the pain in the heart which might not. Do you
understand?"

"Not at all. Philip seduced me. I did not invite
any of this," Jane said sourly.

"Did you try to stop him?"

"Yes."

"How?" When Jane did not respond, Rama
continued. "Allow me to share the ritual of lovemaking with you," he said
patiently. "If this does not sound appealing, then I will make no more
discussion about it. If it does stir you, I wish you to consider giving Philip
a final opportunity to show you how he has committed his heart and soul to his
love for you. Agreed?"

"Uncle
Rama, even if I did find it appealing, that does not change my knowledge that
he fucked other women."

"No, it
does not," Rama agreed. "But consider the fact that, because of his
teachers, he is able to indulge in the ritual fully, and with you. Will you
allow me to share?"

"Yes. I
suppose," Jane said with a glower.

"Very
good! Many households have a room, separate from the rest of the home, that we
call the Chamber of Love. Often, it has nothing within it but a bed, flowers
and incense. The gentleman takes a bath, dresses in fine attire, then gathers
his friends and servants to enter. There, he sits with his woman, offers her
drinks to relax and calm her, and makes small talk, often with amusing or
interesting stories. She is entertained with riddles and nonsensical gossip,
and awakened as he slowly introduces spicy subjects to the conversation. He
often whispers shameless proposals into her ear, knowing that his hot breath
will cause her to shiver with delight. Then music and song begin and they rise
to dance, slowly, and close to one another's body so that they touch through
their clothing. He offers her more to drink when they sit down to rest, and
they discuss art or a book they have both read. As he speaks, he strokes her
hair and slowly slides her robe away from her thighs. She is distracted, and
does not take notice of his subtle boldness."

"Philip
has done those things, only at different times," Jane commented with a
frown. "It is part of courting. Nothing special. And certainly not in
front of anyone."

"The
ritual does not have to be played out exactly as I described. It is simply a
series of events that lead to lovemaking. I know Philip well enough to doubt
that he would show you phallic drawings. At least, not in a public
setting." Rama laughed. "But allow me to continue. With his hands, he
applies perfumed oils and flower essences, and offers her a betel nut."

"What is
that?"

"It is a
fruit from a palm. It is sliced and sprinkled with cinnamon and cardamom, and
then wrapped in a leaf to chew. It is greatly valued, as it brings about
feelings of euphoria. We traditionally offer this as a mark of respect and
auspicious beginnings."

"So the
man essentially gets the woman drunk and then drugs her? In front of a roomful
of people? Where is the appeal in this, Uncle?"

"Remember
that the ritual is founded upon gaining pleasure, and many enjoy drink and
such. I digress," Rama said, holding the glass of brandy to Jane's mouth.
"After the betel is offered, everyone else leaves the room, and he
aggressively tears her robe from her body so that they may have relations. He
chooses the positions that will satisfy both partners, and ensures that she
gains as much joy as he does. After they are finished, they clean themselves in
separate rooms and return to the bed, where he rubs sandalwood paste over her
body and applies fine powder to any bruises incurred during the height of their
passion. They relax together with his arms possessively around her, and he
speaks sweetly, while offering her food and drinks of juice and sweet liquors.
Their evening ends as they stand upon the terrace and converse under the moon
and the stars."

Jane was
silent. This romantic ritual was very different to the courting that took place
back 'home'. There was as much 'talk' as there was touch, and all the senses
were stimulated from start to finish. She recognized the changes in Philip's
behavior, changes which reflected his training, but that still did not alter
the way she felt about the betrayal.

"Talk to
me, Little Monkey. What are you considering so deeply that lines are etched
across your brow?"

"I don't
know what to say. I am still very hurt and confused. I wish Lynette had not
said anything."

"A lack of
knowledge would not change how Philip tends to you, or his love for you. That still
exists. It is you who has changed with this knowledge. He has never brought a
woman to meet me or my family. Only you. You have been the one on whom he had
his heart set since the first time he visited me. He was only sixteen, and he
traveled far and wide to find a gift for his endearing Little Monkey."

"Really?"
Jane blinked through her tears. "Was that when he brought me that
doll?"

"Yes. He
was so specific as to what he wanted. So much so, that I had an artisan come to
the palace and craft it."

"You
did?"

"I did.
There was little time to finish it, and so much to be done, so Philip put
needle to canvas, and helped sew on the glass beads which adorn the doll's
sari."

Jane was
speechless. That doll went with her everywhere as a treasured possession, a
reminder that she had been thought of during the time that they were separated.
The knowledge that Philip had physically contributed to the little doll's
beauty astounded her.

"He never
told me. No wonder he was so sad when the dog made a meal out of her."

"I don't
know any sixteen year old boy who would have openly admitted to doing
needlework on a doll, do you?" Rama chuckled. "But that is how much
he loved you, even then. Will you consider allowing him a chance to prove
himself to you?"

"Yes,"
Jane sighed. "I suppose I should. My anger does not erase the love I hold
for him."

"Excellent."
He took her glass from her and made her stand up between his knees. "Now,
young lady, it is time for you and I to talk. You left the palace grounds
again."

"Yes, but
I was so upset and hurt."

"You could
have stayed in your chambers."

"I did not
want Usha and the rest of them bothering me."

"Jane…"
His voice took on a low warning.

"Yes,
sir," Jane sighed, "I could have gone to my room and chose not to. I
just wanted to get away from all of it. If the road was not so far from town, I
probably would have ventured there, too."

"That is
what I thought. What shall we do about this disobedience?"

"I do not
think
we
should do anything,
Uncle."

"True.
What do you think
I
should do about
this?"

Jane bit her
lip, staring at the ground. She could not deny her curiosity about what a
spanking would feel like given by another man; especially after Lynette's
proclamation of how efficient the Raja was in that department. Her heart was also
aching, and the need to feel
anything
,
even pain, was calling to her.

"It's up
to you," she said quietly, wiping the remaining tears from her face with
the back of her hand.

Rama stood to
distance himself, placing his hands on his waist as he paced the room in
thought. He paused to look at her. "Spankings, like lovemaking, follow
rituals in my home. Whether it be a young child or an errant wife, they are all
handled in the same manner. I consider you a member of this family and,
therefore, you shall receive the same treatment. Agreed?"

"Yes,
Uncle Rama," Jane answered nervously. She felt a fine layer of
perspiration coat her body, and shivered. There was something menacing about
the Prince of State; something she had not noticed before. She immediately regretted
her situation.

"The
position I choose is based on the transgression performed. For talking back and
rudeness, I will usually place the transgressor across my lap. For serious and
dangerous misdeeds, they are restrained over a device of some sort. In your
case, your disobedience demands not just pain, but a degree of humiliation. You
must learn that I am to be obeyed at all times. Not because I am the prince,
but because I am your protector and your friend. That is why I insist on you
calling me 'Uncle.'"

Jane's hands
began to tremble. "I never made that connection. What are you going to do
to me?"

He pulled a long, braided cord in the corner of the
room and summoned a servant, issuing orders under his breath. The man bowed,
nodded, and scurried away. Rama said nothing until the man returned, carrying
with him a small bowl.

"We will remain here in the sitting chambers, as
it is not appropriate for you to go into my bedroom. There are guards at the
door to prevent anyone from entering uninvited," Rama said, removing a
long, thick item from the bowl with a towel. He held it up to the light, eyeing
it carefully.

"What is that?"

"Freshly peeled ginger root. I was checking to
see if the juice had started to seep from the stalk. This will be inserted into
your bottom, and stay in place during your punishment."

"Please, reconsider," Jane begged, her
knowledge all too great about the application of the root. It was a common
method of punishment back in England—one she had heard of, but had
fortunately not experienced.

"The juice of the root causes an uncomfortable
burning sensation whenever the victim clenches her bottom during punishment. A
clenched bottom does not receive a spanking properly, and is also a sign of
resistance. I insist on a relaxed, submissive target."

"I understand the need to spank me, but figging?
That is barbaric. Philip would never do that," Jane said nervously, as she
slowly backed away.

"You will do as I say, little one." His
voice was calm and decisive. She recalled Philip once telling her that there
was no arguing with the Raj; that his word, literally, was law, and the
consequences for disobedience severe. She had, of course, applied that
statement to political agendas—not personal ones!

Rama cleared the large table of vases and patted its
surface. "Remove your drawers and place yourself upon your back, with your
knees held to your chest. Make certain that your bottom is hanging over the
edge."

"Uncle Rama! That is positively indecent!"

"I do not repeat myself."

"Modesty dictates—"

"I could have you strip naked. Would you prefer
that?"

Jane flushed and reached under her loose cotton dress
to untie the drawers. They slid silently to the floor, and she took a moment to
stare at the puddle of material before looking back up into Rama's dark,
serious eyes. She trembled, climbing onto the table as instructed and lying
down in the middle upon her back.

"Bring your bottom closer to me, until you feel
the edge of the table touch the backs of your thighs. Now, lift your knees to
your chest and hold them still."

She bit back her tears as she slowly obeyed.
Humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave. How had she managed to get
herself into such a mess?

"Move the material from your bottom and legs,
Jane. I wish to have a full view of what I am going to be paddling."

The thudding of her heart pounded loudly in her ears.
"Paddling?"

"Yes, dear. It is not right for me to be laying a
bare hand upon your exposed flesh. Pull your cheeks wide apart. I do not wish
to force this ginger to enter your bottom."

Jane whimpered, reaching down and wrapping her fingers
around the edges of her buttocks. Her entire body quivered as she parted her
mounds and exposed her tiny, pink rosebud to the Raja's watchful eyes. The
sound of something snapping made her jump.

"Before I insert the ginger, I am going to
introduce you to a particular punishment that even my Lynette does not care
for. If you move, I will have you tied in this position. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, Uncle Rama," she said in a tiny
voice. She felt something trace along the crack of her bottom, followed by its
removal. Another snap was heard, followed by a horrible biting pain to her
delicate hole, which made her scream out.

"Ow! Oh, dear Lord!"

"Six, Jane. I do not cane my girls, but I will
whip their bum holes. This will ensure that the ginger does its work both on,
and inside, you. Do not release your hold."