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This story is a product of imagination not meant to hurt feelings of any individual or a group of individuals. If something befits somebody it is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Some readers may find the entire story or some parts of it not plausible. With apology I remind them that this is a piece of fiction. Besides the period of the story is early twentieth century.
All characters are more than 18 years in age.
The story being set in Indian background I have used certain Indian words to preserve the original flavor. Here they are:
Lund : erect adult penis
Bhos :vulva, external genitals of a female.
Chut : vagina
Chudai : act of fucking
Choli : miniscule blouse
Ghaghari : pleated petticoat reaching just below knees
Odhani : half sari wrapped around half the body
Hijra: This is an individual who has his genitals cut off in a secret initiation ceremony. By birth he is a male. After the ceremony he assumes a new feminine name, dresses like a woman and generally lives like a woman. These individuals consider themselves devotees of Mother Goddess. They sustain themselves by doing household work and forcing monitory gifts from marriage parties. It is rumored that they act as passive partners in anal sex. Otherwise innocuous these persons are usually butt to lewd remarks from mischievous males when they respond by more graphic lewd gestures and words accompanied by clapping their hands in their special way.
As a hijra is unable to have sex and is physically strong like a man, medieval kings are known to have employed hijras to look after their harems. Some of them have been very influential and powerful.
Ovarana: This is a ritual meant to guard the recipient from evil eye and other bad influences. The lady rotates her flat hands palm downwards few inches above the head of the recipient. After three or four rotations she cracks her knuckles against her own temples. No touch is involved.
“It was the best of the times, it was the worst of the times …..” wrote the English novelist Charles Dickens as the first sentence of his famous Tale Of Two Cities. He was referring to pre-revolutionary France. Much of the same could be said of India under the British rule.
The Indian Empire as it was called in those days was divided into several ‘States’ or ‘Kingdoms’ big and small, each headed by a King or a Nawab. The Kings and the Nawabs were virtually no more than landlords, the British Crown had rendered them lions without teeth or claws. They had no say in matters related to finance, defense and foreign policy. They could not have armed forces, only ceremonial “army” was permitted by the Crown. They had to contribute to the British treasury a fixed amount of money every year. Activities of each of them were closely watched by a British ‘Resident’ who reported directly to the Viceroy in New Delhi.
For want of doing anything substantial and free income flowing in, most of such Kings and Nawabs were prone to slide into a decadent life of gambling prostitution, small time rivalry and pomp. There were some good rulers amongst the lot who cared for their subjects and looked after their well being by spending some portion of state revenue for healthcare, education, roads and transportation and like for the common man.
The greatest affliction of the common man, however was illiteracy and ignorance. This led to poverty and a hoard of other unwanted elements like superstitions, religious dogmatism bigotry and intolerance, rigid cast system, child marriages, untouchability. Nepotism and sycophancy were rife. There was no shortage of crooks charlatans and con men. The condition of the common man was miserable but he was happy because of firm belief in God Almighty.
This is the story of the Prince of one of the smaller States in India. The State of Anangpur, population 50,000 was located between Gujarat on west and north side and the State of Idar on east and south side.
The king was a kind soul named Kalyaan Sinh. He had two queens and two off springs. The elder son the hero of our story, Prince Rativir Sinh was born of the elder queen. The younger queen had a daughter, Princess Ratna Devi three years junior to her brother. Prince Rativir Sinh being the only son was the Crown Prince slated to fill in the gap when his father dies.
Kalyaan Sinh was a simple man, happy with his family. However there was one fly in the ointment, a big one too. He had to perform a duty which taxed his physical resources. With the advancing age he was finding himself more and more ‘inadequate’ for the task.
Now in those days the boys and girls were married at a tender age of below ten. But it used to be a social marriage only. The girl remained with her parents till she came to age. Then having attained maturity she would be ceremoniously sent to her husbands home to start a new life.
Barring few instances it would be the husband who would perform the opening ceremony of his wife’s chut. Not so with a clan of Hinduism which firmly bayan pendik escort believed that the King was a direct descendent of Lord Krishna, the rest of the population, both male and female being considered Gopies. The females of the clan therefore considered it their privilege to be deflowered by the King, the representative of Lord Krishna.
Consequently a bride coming to her husband’s home would be taken first to the King for the night of defloration. Next day she would return home devoid of her hymen but loaded with gifts from the King.
The King did not like the practice and had long discussions with the leaders of the clan to stop it. The leaders had unanimously decided to continue the tradition. Baring this the King was a kind and happy man. He had adequate income from State revenue and had excellent administrative officers to run the State.
Being a considerate person the King handled each girl tenderly and carefully. He used to take her into confidence, spend time to excite her before penetration and continue fucking till she had at least one orgasm. In his younger days he could perform “adequately” but the age takes its toll and he found it more and more difficult to attain and maintain erection in spite of medications, potions and ointments prepared especially for him by the Raaj Vaidya (the Royal Physician).
Ultimately he decided to quit. He would hand over the ‘pious’ duty to his son the Crown Prince Rativir who was at the time 21 years of age. He called in meeting with him and his mother the older Queen. Thinking that the Prince was unaware of the tradition the King hesitatingly explained the situation and ordered him to take over the Devine Duty.
He could have saved his breath, for, the Prince knew very well of the tradition. It was decided that the Prince will make his debut as early as possible.
Everybody was happy but none happier than Reshama .
Reshama was an eunuch. He was ‘assigned’ to the Prince since birth. Her job was to look after and protect the physical well being of the Prince. When the time came she introduced the Prince to the wonderful world of sex. Being the chief eunuch she wielded lot of clout with the Royal Family. She was strong brave and transparently honest; the Royal Family had full trust in her.
There was a small problem. As a duty the Prince would have to deflower any bride that happened to come to her husband’s home on the day of debut. He did not want like that. He wanted to embark on this duty with a girl of his choice. He did not know what to do.
As usual he fell back on Reshama for help. Reshama clapped her palms a couple of times and said, “Hay Re mere Raja. Promise me something and I shall show you some naked girls to select from.”
His mind hesitated but his cock decided the issue. He said, “What kind of promise?”
“You will allow me to remain present when you dip your dong in her Honeywell, What do you say?”
“Agreed, but you will not show yourselves unless called for. You will hide and see.”
“Oh my Lord, I will do as you say. May Mother Goddess pack power in your pecker.”
A religious festival of some sort was coming within a week when people would go to the temple of Vishnu for puja. The temple was on the bank of the river and everybody young or old took a dip before entering the temple. A wide stretch of river bank was reserved for the use only by the ladies.
For three days Reshama taught the Prince behaving like a hijra. She made him dress like a woman, walk like woman and clap the palms in a way peculiar to hijra. She made him practice few hours everyday. He was given a name too: Rangilee.
On the day of the festival two hijras set forth from the Royal Palace. Walking their peculiar gait they clapped their palms and cut lewd remarks at passer bys. They were accepted as such and they reached the river front without hitch.
On reaching the reserved area of the bank they sat down under a tree as if resting after a long walk. Nobody took notice of them, and if anybody did they were ignored: they were a pair of harmless hijras.
Several ladies were bathing in different stages of undress. After ogling young girls for half an hour the Prince pointed out one to Reshama. Reshama went into the waters to ‘wash her face’ and came out with the name of the girl.
Then after the things were easy. Her parents and in laws were summoned to the Palace where they were received by the Royal Couple. They were informed about Prince’s selection of their daughter for his debut and the mother of the girl swooned out of joy. They were told to arrange the homecoming of the bride on a certain day, They agreed and went home happy, each one with a gift from the Queen.
On the appointed day the bride was sent from her parents’ to in laws’ house. She was received with fanfare and religious rituals. In the afternoon her mother in law brought her to the Palace. She was received ceremonially by the Queen herself. Immediately she was whisked away by a bunch of maids and eunuchs to prepare beykoz escort her for the night. She would be given scented bath when all openings of her body would be thoroughly cleaned especially her chut, mouth and rectum. Her vulva and if necessary legs too would be shaved, her nails pared , hair combed. After anointing her bhos and limbs with fragrant body pastes she would be dressed in a choli, ghaghari and odhani; no bra, no panty. She would then be given her choice of evening meal and ultimately escorted to the Rang Bhavan. She would wait there for the Prince.
Thus Harkha (her name was Harkha) an eighteen and half year married virgin was brought to the Prince for Devine Defloration.
Let us hear from the Prince himself how he performed his duty,
THE PRINCE :
I am Prince Rativir Sinh of Anangpur, twenty one years old son of Maharaja Kalyaan Sinh.
You by now know how Harkha was brought to me for defloration.
My father the Maharaja has two wives each having one child. My mother is the senior Queen. My step mother has a daughter Ratna Devi three years junior to me. She is of Harkha’s age. I love her, she adores me.
The Prince’s childhood is nothing to envy about, it is more likely to be pitied upon. I was raised under strict control and supervision of my mother the queen. There was a long line of tutors who came in to give me lessons at home. I could play only with the selected boys and that too under the watchful eyes of my guards. I had to learn so many things an ordinary boy has never dreamed about like etiquette, manners, protocols, history, combat with and without weapons and like.
Reshama was a hijara who was entrusted with my health in general and well being of my genitals in particular. I have known her since my birth. She did not allow anybody to touch me ‘there’ even during bath; she would herself wash me. Besides, as I grew up she kept on instructing me about sex appropriate to my age. She saw that I did not come in contact with girls in her absence, the only exception being Princess Ratna.
It was Reshana who under the instructions from my mother orchestrated loss of my virginity making me a man out of the boy I was. That happened exactly a week after my eighteenth birthday. The girl was a ‘clean healthy’ experienced maid of 18, who dealt gently with me and my cock. She allowed me to fuck her thrice during the night.
Reshama then after recruited six choicest girls for my harem. She looked after them in all aspects dismissing those who were unhealthy, unhygienic or unwilling for any reason. None of them, except the last entrant Juhi, had been a virgin.
So with an experience of taking cherry of one girl I was slated to deflower another virgin.
At about nine Reshama came to fetch me to the Rang Bhavan. Harkha would be waiting there.
I do not know which of my illustrious ancestors created the Rang Bhavan but who ever did, did it with a flare. It was more of a hall than a room. There was a huge bed in the center fit to accommodate four adults. There were tables and chairs and sofas and recliners. A double door led to an enormous bathroom fitted with most modern equipment. Another door led to a vast balcony overlooking the gardens, The walls were decorated with paintings of beautiful couples engaged in various stages of sexual activity bordering to pornography.
But the most interesting feature was the mirrors. There were mirrors everywhere, including ceiling. No matter where you were you would find your reflex ion in one mirror or other. The purpose was obvious.
There was soft light from carefully hidden lamps and the air was fragrant from burning incense.
I stepped in and Reshama came in with me. In firm voice I told her, “Now, be careful. Do not show yourself unless I call for you.”
Reshama bowed and said, “As my Lord wishes.” She closed the door and disappeared. I turned around to face Harkha.
What I saw broke my heart. On the bed was sitting a young girl bedecked in traditional choli ghaghari and odhani with hands and feet decorated with menhdi designs. She was trembling like a leaf. Her big black eyes were wide open staring at me with undisguised fear. As I approached her she lied down flat on her back and spread her legs.
It looked funny but it was a gesture of abject surrender, resigning to fate, tragic in extreme. I felt a pang of remorse in my heart. Was this the girl I was supposed to convert into a woman? How was I to even kiss her, let apart fuck her? Of course I could force myself on her, just penetrate, break the hymen and come out. But that would be no less than a rape, she would never forget the experience. Worse, she may develop vaginismus a tragic malady where the vagina does not tolerate entry of anything without severe pain. Even a finger cannot go in. What could I do?
I decided up on a rough plan. I would take her in my confidence by talking only. If she opens up I would start with foreplay and arouse her to a level when she would tolerate penetration. I would go in, break the bostancı escort hymen and come out. End of the story.
But then I might be also aroused and need to relieve my pressure. I clapped my hands twice and Reshama appeared from thin air. Bowing low she said, “My Lord?”
I whispered in her ear, “Tell Juhi to remain available; I may need her help later on.”
Reshama disappeared again like magic and I turned to Harkha. Standing by her side I put forward my hands intently gazing in her eyes. After a moments hesitation she put her hands in mine, her delicate, cold and clammy, trembling hands. I pulled her up in to sitting position and gently asked, “Are you scared of me?”
In a voice barely audible, she said, “No, Sir.”
“You are scared of what is going to happen?”
She got busy adjusting her clothes but replied, “Yes, Sir.”
I decided not to take any serious steps until her fears were allayed. I said, “Let us sit comfortably in sofa and talk.”
I offered my hand. She put her small delicate hand in mine and I led her to the sofa. I asked about some sweets and drinks; she declined. I said, ” I have something for you.”
I could see the curiosity momentarily replacing fear in her eyes. I brought out couple of boxes for her and asked her to open them.
The first contained a heavy gold necklace intricate in design and studded with precious stones. Her jaw dropped in wonder and she kept on looking alternatively at me and the necklace. A bright but shy smile lit her face.
I said, “Do you like it?”
She was about to burst out yes like a small girl when the fear once again gripped her heart. Her face fell and she said, “It is beautiful, whose is it?”
I smiled and said, “It is a gift to you from me. Now open the other box.”
The other box had a pair of bangles matching in design with the necklace.
Again she forgot her fears and looked at me asking the silent question. I nodded and said, “From my mother, the Queen.”
She could not wait to put the bangles on. When that was done I said, “Let me put the necklace on you.”
We went to a mirror on the wall, I stood behind her. I hooked the ornament at the nape of her neck. Her neck was delicate with tendrils of fine hair. My fingers touched her skin and she broke out goose bumps. My resolve of curtailing the fucking time started crumbling.
I said, ” They look nice on you.”
We came back to sofa. She sat away from me and removed the ornaments putting them back into the boxes. Her trembling was minimal. Her apprehension was much less now. I said, “You can go home now if you do not want……you know what. I will not feel bad bout it. The gifts are for you to keep. What do you want to do?”
Anxiously she hastened to say, “No, no no, Sir. I do not want to go home.”
“Alright, then” I said, “Tell me about you….”
That is how I dragged her into conversation. I asked her about her likes, dislikes, hobbies ; I asked about her family, her in laws, her husband. I carefully avoided the subject of sex.
In the beginning her responses were in monosyllables but as the innocent talks continued her anxiety lessened and she gradually opened up. Within half an hour she was unwound enough to laugh freely at some silly situation.
Time was now ripe to introduce sex in our talks. Hence I asked, “Why did you lie down on your back when I came in the room?”
“My mom told me to do so. And a couple of my married friends too. “
“What did they say?”
She blushed heavily and lowered her gaze before saying, “To lie down and allow you to do whatever you want.”
“Did they say what I may want?”
Still with her gaze averted she nodded yes.
” Tell me what they said.”
In a voice barely audible she murmured, “They said that you will fu …fu….I cannot speak.”
“You cannot speak but you know what it is? You know what we are supposed to do?”
Again she blushed and averted her eyes. She put her finger between her teeth and smiled bashfully. My lund twitched in my pajamas.
When she did not answer I said, “Will you please, go and get me half a glass of milk?”
She got up from the sofa and walked down to the table near the far wall where snacks and drinks were kept. While her back was turned to me I left the sofa and went to sit on the edge of the bed. I removed my night shirt and loosened the pajamas by untying the knot of the string. I did not bring out my lund which was by then fully erect.
She came back with milk and stood little away from me. She blushed heavily seeing me half naked. All the girls I had fucked till then had told me that I had impressive sexy chest, muscular deep and with springy hair all over it and over my shoulders too. She lowered her gaze and offered me the glass. Her hand was unsteady, shaking gently due to excitement mixed with anxiety. There was shy smile on her lips.
With one hand I grabbed her wrist as if to steady it and with the other took away the glass. I put down the glass on the side table but did not release her wrist. I expected her to pull back but to my delight she did not. I waited for some time and gave her ample opportunity to withdraw. When she did not I looked into her eyes. She immediately lowered her gaze and chewed her lip. Gently I pulled her down in my lap. She came in slowly but willingly
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