Kate and Julia: Slave Girls of the Raj (2 page)

“You say that but your body does not agree,” Afia said.

“I know,” Julia groaned dejectedly. Her nipples had been like pebbles from the moment she had awoken, and she had felt tingly and moist long before the native girl’s first touch.

“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 within her and the shivering thrills that made her beauty-bud emerge, Julia lost her hold on the marble and discovered her own hands roving over her oily nakedness, squeezing and rubbing while her blood pulsed through her veins. She could not stop herself. Nor, she realized, building towards her climax as Afia teased her ever more profoundly, did she want to. Julia suddenly gave a long, gasping sigh and shuddered ecstatically, back arching and hips writhing in the grip of the marvellously tickling spasms. Breasts heaving as she sucked air into her lungs, 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 do it to me.”

“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 in her rear. 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. Her excitement was obvious in the pout of her sensual lips and the brightness of her eyes with their dilated pupils. A fine sheen of sweat coated her pale brown skin and a scent that the English girl had come to recognise easily in the last few days clung to her. She had been as aroused 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, giving a soft, breathy sigh. “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 she feel the same there as Juila herself did, and would she tingle with excitement at the touch of her fingers? Would Afia squirm and wriggle her hips too?

Julia felt a stab of guilt as she watched her hand reach out and rest low down 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 touch had been perfectly natural and inevitable.

Afia’s hand closed over hers and pushed it downwards until it rested on the smooth, warm skin between her thighs. 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 what lay beneath her fingers. Afia gave a soft groan and 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 herself against Julia’s hand. “Now, would you please begin? It is very frustrating to feel your fingers so close but not moving.”

“My mother says lovemaking is something for men to enjoy and women to put up with,” Julia continued, trying not to think about where she had just slipped her middle finger. “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. “Then she has not served you well. It 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! Don’t slow down,” Afia gasped, “and rub me here.” She pointed a finger.

Julia looked at the little bump of flesh that her rubbing had prompted to appear. Catching her breath at the enormity of what she was doing she complied with the girl’s request.

“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 she slid her fingers deeper, seeking to give the native girl the same delight that Afia had given her.

“Oh, mother forgive me,” Julia muttered guiltily as she felt a tingling of her own and the native girl wriggled under her touch while the odour of arousal filled the air. An abrupt up-thrust of Afia’s hips and a sudden clenching of her muscles told the English girl she had climaxed.

She continued rubbing her, 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 prominent breasts were pressing into his chest.

She drew back 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 the girls manipulating one another. 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 his brown-skinned, half-upright length was suddenly pointing directly at Julia’s face. A tremor tickled through her. 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 manhood rising 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 downwards. Julia gave a startled gasp and found she could not tear her wide-eyed gaze from his. Heart thumping, she curled her fingers around what she was touching, as she had seen the other girls do. It was rigid, powerful, commanding. Somehow it seemed natural to move her hand up and down on it. Jahngir’s eyes narrowed and he reached for her breasts.

She looked down as his wet fingers rubbed the dark-red rouge from their tips, revealing they were firm and pink. Julia’s belly flipped and she felt a prickling where her thighs met. Her tentative hold on the warm, thick flesh tightened. Its tip too was pink, and shining 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 his manhood. It seemed to pulse beneath her fingers.

“Open your mouth,” the Pathan said.

Julia parted her lips and felt the resistance in his rigid flesh as she pulled it down to meet her lips. They parted and she leaned forwards. 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 nakedness 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 serve him with her mouth.

“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 between them. 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 you pleasure yourself,” 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 herself. He sex felt much more responsive than she would have wished.

“Keep your thighs spread,” Jahngir barked as they automatically tightened on her hand.

Soon, Julia was breathing hard and could feel the trickle of perspiration over her skin as the stimulating quivers 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 her thrusting fingers as she rubbed ever more eagerly.

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 climaxing again when he made her stop, and he knew it as surely as she did.

Jahngir got to his feet and, still naked, stood very close to her. “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 pleasure me in every way I instruct you 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?”