Princess or Whore

"I... I don't know."

"I know how things are these days in America. You have to ask me."

Priya studied him. Her emotions were so conflicted. There were aspects of this man that she loathed but others that she loved. The intoxicating mix of love and hate was a recipe for disaster and she knew it. But she couldn't stop herself, "Kiss me." The voice that came out of her mouth was far deeper and sensual than she intended but Ben didn't dwell on it. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. His lips lingering against hers slightly. She opened her mouth to his and traced his lips gently with her tongue before he pulled away leaving her surprised. She blinked at him before diving forward and kissing him more fully. The two made out in the cab. Priya's hands tracing the muscles on his back and arms while his gently stroked along her hips and legs. She kept feeling him dance close to the hem of the red saree, teasing her skin before pulling away.

"Stop," she said.

"Stop what? Teasing or touching?" he asked before kissing her again, this time keeping his hands studiously free of her. Instead his right arm was pressed against the door on her side and she somehow felt more trapped then when he was touching her.

"Stop... stop teasing me?" she asked, uncertain herself if she knew what she wanted.

"You have to tell me what you want," he said again, this time kissing down her neck as she floundered with her own emotions.

"Touch me," she whispered. She heard the cab driver chuckle and started to say something but Ben's hand slipping up the inside of her saree made her instantly forget what she was about to say. His fingers expertly traced along the inside of her leg and he could feel the radiant heat from her core on his hand. He squeezed the soft flesh of her upper thigh, allowing the edge of his right hand to press against her steaming pussy. The contact was electric as the satin panties she wore provided the flimsiest of barriers between him and her. She gasped as the action created the barest of friction on her clit.

"What do you say?" Ben asked her as he let the edge of his hand brush her again. Just barely grazing across her engorged nub.

"Huh?" she asked, looking at him and shivering at the gaze he returned. In the restaurant and last night, she'd seen a hint of the hunter that Ben Chilwerth was. Now she could see what he kept so well hidden. She felt trapped, dominated and wholly overwhelmed.

"What do you say when someone does something nice for you?"

"Thank you?" she asked, uncertain what he was getting at.

"Good girl," he said and kissed the nape of her neck while allowing his hand to more forcefully apply pressure to her already soaked panties and desperate clit.

She gasped and managed another, "Thank you," as he touched her more aggressively. "More... please more."

Ben smiled and worked his fingers expertly. He slid the soft fabric aside and caressed the wet gash it had valiantly protected. "More?" he asked.

Priya wasn't thinking clearly. The fear and arousal were completely intertwined. All she could do was spread her legs and grab his wrist. The nonverbal cue was obvious but Ben resisted. Her weak pull wasn't strong enough and his arm was almost as unyielding as an iron bar. She whimpered and looked at him. She could see what he wanted, "Please?" she squeaked.

"Please what, raajakumaaree?"

She groaned at the use of the word. It pushed a button deep inside of her. "Princess?" she asked and was rewarded with a finger sliding along her moist opening. "Does that make you raajakumaar?" she asked using the word for 'Prince'.

"No," he said as he scraped his finger up along her swollen clit. She gasped as he whispered, "You will address me as maharaja. Now tell me what you want, raajakumaaree."

Priya swooned. She instantly pictured a colonial white man sitting atop an Indian throne. She pictured herself kneeling at his feet, begging for... "Finger me if it pleases you, maharaja."

His thick finger slipped inside of her. It met no resistance or friction. She moaned out, not even noticing the cabby adjusting the rear view mirror as she shook in the arms of the British invader. He moved inside of her, stirring her passions more and more powerfully. The edge of his thumb strummed her clit, threatening to cause her to boil over at any moment. For the first time, she reached out and felt for Ben's cock. It was hard, thick and long and just the feel of it as it twitched at her touch caused her to groan.

"Do you want that, princess?"

"Yes..." she said, hips thrusting against his hand.

"Do you want to cum, raajakumaaree?"

"Yes, please... maharaja."

"If you beg to suck me off and do a good job, I might allow you to orgasm."

"Please... please let this lowly shudra please you oh powerful one." Priya was completely into the game at this point. Ben's left hand gripped her hair tightly and his right hand pulled out from her sopping cunt. She simpered pitifully at the unpleasant empty sensation she was left with but didn't have much time to dwell on it as he deftly unzipped his fly and shoved her gaping mouth down to his thick white cock. Priya didn't suck cock. She would never do it. It was degrading and disgusting and dehumanizing.

The cock filled her mouth and it thrilled her in strange and unexpected ways. She started bobbing enthusiastically (if inexpertly) on the thick white shaft. She didn't care who saw. She didn't care about much other than pleasing her lord's cock and earning her own orgasm. She was only dimly aware when Ben told the cabbie, "Circle the block a couple more times." She stroked the shaft slightly, trying to gauge the quiet sounds that Ben made. It took her awhile but she finally found a rhythm that he was enjoying... or at least his thrusting hips seemed to indicate. One... Two... Three more thrusts down her throat and suddenly his hand pulled her away from him. She watched in mesmerized awe as his strong right hand gripped the shaft and gave it a couple firm pulls. Suddenly he groaned and shot thick strands of cum across Priya's upturned face. The first hot rope landed on her left cheek and startled her but she couldn't stop staring into his eyes as he shot several more strings up and down her face and in her hair.

He pulled her up by her hair roughly, a feeling that she'd have hated 48 hours ago but she found intoxicatingly possessive at the moment. Then he whispered, "I'm done with you raajakumaaree. You will go to your little apartment and think of me but you are not to cum without my permission. Understand?"

"But... you promised," she whined. She hated the pitiful tone of her voice but she couldn't stop it from coming out. She sounded like the most entitled little brat but she was so turned on she couldn't think straight. Didn't he understand that she needed to cum? That she'd earned that orgasm?

"No... I said you might. And I've decided you won't until I'm fully satisfied. Now don't argue. Go," he said. The last word had a harsh finality to it. The cab came to a halt in front of her apartment building. He got out and held the door open for her, showing for a moment the nice Ben Chilwerth. He gave her an almost chaste kiss on her right cheek before patting her ass lightly and climbing back in the cab. She stumbled inside, still bursting with arousal. Her doorman gave her a funny look as she walked past. The cold Chicago wind carried in Ben's voice with one last little taunt, "Good night, Princess."

She caught her breath as she stood in the elevator. Then the metal doors closed. They'd been polished to an almost mirror sheen and the look of the woman that met Priya's gaze almost broke her completely. The smeared mascara and lipstick. The cum drying on her cheek and in her wrecked hair. She stared at her, alternating between fascination, horror and arousal before she started chuckling a tearful laugh as the emotions swept over her. Priya went to bed, unsure of her own emotions. She never even considered cumming.

---

The next week was a real challenge for Priya's self control. She went back and forth between wanting to give herself an orgasm and not wanting to give in. Sometimes she'd convince herself that Ben was a dominating psychopath who really thought he could own her orgasms. Other times she was certain that he was manipulating her into getting herself off to prove she had no self-control. The emotional whipsaw was only made worse by his harassing texts. Well... it would have been harassing if she didn't encourage them.

Ben: I had a great night last night. Thank you, raajakumaaree ;)

Priya: Don't call me that. It's practically racist.

Ben: That's not what your opinion was last night.

Priya: I was lost in the moment.

Ben: I know... did you obey me when you got home?

Priya: None of your business

Ben: It's definitely my business, princess

Priya: Don't call me that either

Ben: Why not?

Priya: It's demeaning. Teasing.

Ben: So? Do you not like it?

Priya: No

Ben: That's it? No? You didn't say "No" last night

Priya: I should have

Ben: No you shouldn't have. You'd be regretting it today.

Priya: Maybe

Ben: Definitely.

Ben: What are you wearing?

Priya: Why?

Ben: Send me a picture

Priya: No

Ben: Yes

Priya looked at the message. Because of their mutually hectic schedules, the conversation was slow, occurring over three days. Three days without an orgasm. Why? Who was this man? Why was she acting like this with him? She should have gone to University Human Resources. But she knew she didn't want to. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she had to get help. At least that's what she told herself. The selfie she took told a different story. Actually, the five selfies she took in trying to find the most attractive picture told the real story. Her body wanted Ben Chilwerth and she didn't know how to fight the urge. She couldn't get the image of herself kneeling in front of him out of her head. It was consuming her. Which is probably why the picture she settled on was from above as she knelt on the floor of her office. Immediately after sending it, he responded.

Ben: Very nice. And in the proper position of submission.

Priya: Fuck you

Ben: An offer?

Priya: You wish

Ben: Are you wearing little satin panties again?

Priya: None of your business

Ben: Send me a picture, raajakumaaree

Priya didn't protest this time. She knew she wasn't going to win the fight. She'd never done anything like this but it was the end of the fourth day and her fingers were twitching from all of the unintentional edging she kept doing. She would tease herself then remind herself that he wanted her to cum and she'd stop. Then she'd chastise her stupid self-rationalization and start again only to find another reason not to cum. The cycle repeated multiple times every night until she was starting to look almost as frazzled as she felt. She pulled her skirt up and snapped a picture. She was immediately rewarded with a response from Ben. It showed a huge, hard cock. He'd sent her a dick pic. And his next text

Ben: Is this what you wanted?

Yes. Oh god yes.

Priya: No

Ben: Uhhuh... come to my apartment tonight. 7pm, raajakumaaree.

Priya put her phone in her purse and took a sip of water with shaking hands. Was she going to go to his apartment tonight? Hell no. She wasn't a plaything. She didn't do booty calls. Fuck him.

At 6:55, she was standing in front of his door wearing the same red saree that she'd worn on their first date. The date that had ended with her most embarrassing walk of shame of all time. The date that she had continuously relived in her mind as she strummed herself to countless denied orgasms.

The door opened when she knocked and he was standing there looking cocky and arrogant. He was wearing a pair of thin, linen slacks and no shirt. "Like what you see, raajakumaaree?"

"No," she said but her gaping mouth and almost imperceptible nod told the real truth. Ben's muscles looked hard and worn. They looked like they were earned working in fields, not a gym. There were little scars all over. Little injuries from years of real world exertion. Priya felt herself get even more aroused.

"Uhhuh," he said to her. "So what's it going to be?"

"What?"

"What do you want from me, princess?"

"Want? Nothing. I want you to stop harassing me. Just leave me alone," she said.

"Seriously? You send me pictures of your underwear. You dress up like I ask you and show up when I tell you. And you do it to get me to leave you alone?" Ben shook his head as he said this. His body leaned against the doorframe gently and she couldn't take her eyes off his chest. "I don't think so."

Priya managed, "Well... I do... I don't want to be a part of your games."

"Then why haven't you made yourself cum this week?"

"Who says I haven't?" Priya protested.

"Your ridiculous nervousness. I've never seen anyone so nervous."

"Look... Ben..."

"Maharaja, remember," Ben said in a condescending tone.

"Fine... maharaja," she said, not wanting to make a big production of it. "This is all just too much. I'm not going to lie to you. I enjoyed the other night. But..."

"So you enjoyed the other night?" Ben said interrupting her. He stepped out of his door just enough to encroach upon her space. She stood her ground and looked up at him.

"Yes," came her soft reply.

"You enjoyed being fingerfucked in a cab and then getting my cum all over your pretty face?"

She nodded very slightly, "Yes... but..."

He interrupted her again, "I was wrong. You're no rajaakumaaree. You're a phoohad. A slut," he said the words with such venom that Priya actually winced.

"I am not," she protested but Ben just shook his head.

"Yes you are. We both know it. Okay... here's the problem, phoohad. You're wearing too much clothing for a lowly veshya like you. Don't you agree?"

"What? I may have acted a little... wantonly... but I'm no whore!" for the first time her voice raised a bit in her own defense. Then she glanced around nervously at the empty hallway before continuing, "That's enough. I'm done here. I'm done with you."

"Enjoy fantasizing about this big, thick, white cock veshya. Feel free to cum if you really want to. But when you come back, make sure you're wearing something more appropriate to your station." The door closed behind him before she could even respond. The whole conversation had played out completely differently than she'd imagined. In her more lucid moments, she'd pictured herself standing up to him. Maybe even getting him to apologize for his loutish behavior. In her more depraved moments it had ended with her riding astride him or... if she was honest, bent over a piece of furniture and fucked into bliss. She'd never considered a simple rejection by him.

--

The next week was even harder than the last. Ben didn't text her at all. He didn't call. She had enough self-control and pride left that she didn't barrage him with messages. She wasn't going to be that girl who texted, "Why didn't you text me back?"

But that didn't stop her from sending one quick message.

Priya: Should we talk?

There was no response. She checked everyday. Truthfully, she checked three times a day. Nothing.

And so it was that she tried to go about her regular days. And, for the most part, she managed that. At least until the night came. At night, she'd finger herself in her bed, imagining increasingly lewd, depraved images. She'd stare at the picture of his cock that she'd been sent and give herself orgasm after orgasm. She imagined that cock back in her mouth. Or filling her tight cunt. The orgasms were always amazing but somehow empty. She knew what she really wanted.

And so it was she found herself standing outside Ben's door. This time she wasn't wearing the beautiful red saree. She wasn't wearing her trademark slacks and blouse that she taught in. Instead, she was wearing an almost sheer black saree that highlighted her very womanly figure. The swell of her breasts was clearly visible and the barest hint of nipple was there if the light was bright enough. The saree was short too. Shorter than any skirt that Priya owned. It came up eight or nine inches above her knee. She'd also found a pair of thigh high boots with five inch heels. She'd spent nearly an hour in front of the mirror making herself look progressively trashier. If he wanted her to look like a whore than so be it. That's what she was going to do. She'd given up the pretense. She knew she needed him.

"Come in," he called when she knocked on his door. It was Friday night. He didn't know she was coming. How could he? Priya opened the door and walked in. His apartment was not what she'd expected. It was warm and inviting with old wooden furniture and soft pillows. So unlike the modern apartments of other professors. She didn't see Ben as she glanced around. One wall was adorned with several Indian heirlooms and several pictures. One in particular drew her to it. The picture was of a tall, strong white man and his Indian family. She knew it was Ben's greatgrandfather. The resemblance was unmistakeable. He was standing there with his arm on the shoulder of his wife who was seated in front of him. She was smiling happily at the camera. A smile that you couldn't fake. A smile that said, "I'm happy beyond all reason."

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her. Before she could turn, two strong hands gripped her arms above her elbows and hot breath was in her ear, "I knew you'd come back to me, slut."

Priya shivered, "How?"

"I could tell from the first time we met. I knew what you needed."

Priya could barely bring herself to speak, "And what's that?"

Suddenly the hands moved from her elbows to her breasts. They mauled and squeezed at her and she couldn't help but move her hips, shoving her ass back against her molestors raging cock. "I know what you need, cunt. I want to hear you say it."

"I don't know," she whispered in ecstasy as the rough hands squeezed her through the thin black fabric. His right hand dug into her flesh painfully while his left pinched and pulled on her nipple causing her involuntary moan to fill the apartment.

"Yes you do. What's the first thing that comes to mind for you, rajaakumaaree?"

"I can't," she said, still holding back. The image was etched in her mind. Her kneeling at Ben's feet. Supplicating herself completely before him. Ben's right hand slid down to the high hem of her dress and pulled it up roughly. She gasped as she now was bare before him. "Please..." she begged as his fingers traced along her gushing gunt. They both knew how aroused she was. There were no more games.

"No underwear... my my... you did dress like an obedient little veshya. Tell me what you've been imagining every night, bitch?" The words were harsh and commanding. Priya gasped as Ben continued to manhandle her from behind. She didn't fight her body's natural reactions, simply gave in to the wanton impulses as she danced to the lead of her partner.

"Kneeling...," she said and was rewarded with those perfect fingers piercing into her core. She cried out in pleasure.

"See what happens when you admit what you want, slut?"

"Oh God... I want... I want," she said but could barely speak the words. She was filled with shame and lust and it nearly paralyzed her. Ben pulled his fingers out from her and she whined pitifully. She felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders as she knelt before him. "I want you to... to dominate me, maharaja," she said as she looked up at him. She saw his sock then for the first time. The thick, long, white shaft was everything that the picture had promised and more. She wanted it. She needed it. Something primal inside of her called out for it.

"If only your students could see you now, slut," Ben said with a chuckle. Priya felt the fear well up inside of her. He wouldn't? Ben looked at her as if reading her before saying, "Don't worry. I'm keeping you to myself, slut. Nobody but I will know what you really are."