Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 12

"He was shocked. I guess he never expected that me, a demure young servant girl, would be like this. But I slapped him again. And again. It was some hard slaps that left bright red marks on his cheeks. And he began to apologize, and I began to scold him for groping me. And I slapped him again."

"The next time I had to go to his house, I hesitated, but only for a little while. We really needed the money. This time, once again the malkin was away. But this time, instead of trying to rape me, the man apologized. I stood there, shocked and surprised, as he really, really apologized. And then I slapped him. To my surprise, I liked it. And even bigger surprised -- he liked it!"

"This actually became a sort of regular routine. Whenever I would go to clean his house, and his wife was in the washroom or in another room, this man would come to me, and apologize for his behavior and for having dirty thoughts of me. And I would slap him. And slap him hard. And he seemed to like it more and more -- and you know what? I got extra bakshish, or tips, from him. This was the first time I realized that I could take out my hatred of men on men, in such a way, and actually get paid for it. I didn't realize it then, but this man was my first submissive. And me -- I am a dominating woman at heart. A woman who likes to beat men and punish men for fun. Soon I was spanking him, and then beating him, caning him, and so on."

Once again there was a pause as I took a third helping. I also began to understand a lot of Rashida's background, and a lot of our relationship now was making sense. This is why Rashida was so comfortable when she first started to spank me and slap me and punish me. She had done this to other men before. It came naturally to her. She was a natural dominant.

And this is why Rashida never returned my love. She grew up hating men. ALL men. So in reality, she wasn't rejecting me. She just wasn't interested in any men. So ... was she a lesbian then?

"Bua." I interjected. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure, baba."

"In this time, did you ever have any romantic interest? A boyfriend? A lover?"

"Hmm." Rashida pursed her lips. "I am not a lesbian, if that is what you are thinking."

As usual, Rashida was too smart for me.

"I did have a couple of flings." Rashida continued. "But ... then after my sister Tamanna was born, and my father's health worsened. Before my sister was even six months old, he died. And my mother dutifully cried at his funeral, but all I could feel was more hatred. And that he had left us with a lot of debt and no sustainable future. With my mother forced to stay home to care for my baby sister, there was only one option left for me. I had to go to the big city, to Calcutta, and seek a job there. A maid there would earn much more than a cleaning lady back in the village. And so I came to Calcutta when I was eighteen and half, or just shy of my nineteenth birthday, I think, and soon I was working for your family."

As she finished, there was a pause as I took in her story. It was riveting, listening to her experiences of a harsh life, and I wondered if my own family knew the background of their maid who had been working here for 19 years now. She had started when I was three and she was eighteen (and half, or nineteen ... she didn't remember), and now I was twenty two and she was thirty seven (or thirty eight ... though I think her passport age was thirty seven).

Something else started to click. There was a story here. Another story. A family secret. Something vaguely knocked at the outer layer of my consciousness. I was aware of something, but only on a subconscious level. I wanted to follow that train of thought, that hidden story, but right now I was infatuated with Rashida. And her story.

Soon our dinner was done, so I asked Rashida if she wanted some dessert. I told her the cheesecake here was very good, and she wanted to try it, so I ordered a couple of slices for her and myself.

"Bua," I asked her, as we waited for the dessert to come. "In all these years, why didn't you ever marry? My mother told me countless of times that she tried to arrange one for you but you didn't want to."

There was silence for some time. I wondered if I had asked a deep personal question that I shouldn't have. I was just about to apologize when I saw Rashida smile and nod.

"Baba, I don't marry because I cannot have a child." She stated.

I looked at her, in shock. Rashida was infertile! I never knew!

Was that the family secret? No, that wasn't it. There was something else. Something still gnawed at me.

"Yes." Rashida ruefully nodded. "Once, in my early days in the city, I was crossing the street. I didn't look -- and there was a car coming. Before I knew it, it had hit me, and I was flying through the air. Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. And do you know what, it was your father who had brought me to the hospital. Your father was driving right behind the car that hit me, and he had seen the accident. When the driver who hit me fled, your father and your mother took me in their car, and brought me to the nearest hospital. Apollo General."

So that was how Rashida had met my parents! I remembered this now. I had heard the story of the accident before. And something else. Something that was now becoming clear.

"I was there for a few weeks." Rashida recalled. "Your parents paid the bills -- kind souls. When they released me from the hospital, your father gave me a job here at your house. You were a toddler, and your mother needed a maid, and I was a good fit."

"And that accident ..." I mouthed, "That accident made you ..."

"Yes." Rashida nodded. "I cannot ever have a child. So now, whenever there is a marriage proposal, as soon as they find that out, the proposal disappears. Now that I am crossing thirty seven, marriage is probably out of my destiny, sadly."

So that was why she was sad. Now it all made sense.

Yet, she just spoke of destiny.

Marriage is probably out of my destiny, sadly, she had just said.

No, it isn't bua. It isn't. I am your destiny. I can be, and you don't even know why. I know.

"Bua." I nervously gathered the courage and told her. "You know that I love you. I really, really love you, bua. My love for you hasn't changed at all, even knowing that you can never be a mother. And I will do anything ... any thing ... for you. Even ... marry you."

Rashida looked at me. It was a curious glance, a questioning glance. For the first time in five years, I saw something in the way she looked at me. Yes, she still looked at me with disdain, but there was something else. Something reflected in her eyes as she pondered my words.

My reverie was interrupted as the waiter returned with the dessert. The cheesecake slice looked really sumptuous, and there was a nice round red cherry on top bathed with some even more red syrup.

"Tarek." Rashida grinned and picked up her spoon. "When we return home, and by the time I am done with you for the night, your ass will be glowing even redder than this cherry."

I gulped.

* * *

As we entered the house, Rashida turned to me. She slowly raised a hand and grabbed hold of my left ear.

"Tarek." She said, twisting the ear painfully. "I am going to punish you tonight. Properly and thoroughly."

"Er ... bua." I grimaced, as she tightened her hold on my ear. "I am your obedient and loyal slave, bua. I am your kutti -- your bitch."

"Good." Rashida continued to pull and twist my ear, before letting go. "I need you to follow my instructions properly."

My ear was already burning.

"Yes, bua."

We shut, locked and then latched the front door.

"You will go to your room," Rashida ordered. "And remove all of your clothes there. I want you completely ulongo -- fully naked."

"Yes, bua."

This part was obviously no surprise. Whatever Rashida wanted to do with me, she wanted me in the nude.

"Then, baba," She continued. "You will go to the kitchen and get me a fresh glass of cold water."

"Yes, bua."

"Make sure the glass is clean." She said. "And the water should be ice cold. But no ice cubes in it."

"Yes, bua."

"I will be in my room, so come there after you get the water."

"Yes, bua."

Rashida turned and started to walk to her room. I stood there in my spot, watching her from behind. Her sari, wrapped graciously around her chubby body, couldn't hide her big bum, which jiggled and swayed from side to side as she walked away. Oh, how I wanted to bury that face in that buttocks of hers! Oh, how I wanted to sniff her asshole, and lick and kiss her bum, and worship those feet.

I went to my room and started to strip. Off came my upper clothes and then my pants. Down came my underwear. I was now completely, and utterly, naked. And vulnerable. Thank goodness my parents were not home!

I quickly walked to the kitchen. I opened the cabinet where the maids kept cleaned glasses and picked one. Examining it to make sure there was no dirt, I rinsed it, and then grabbed a bottle of Bisleri mineral water from the fridge. It was nicely cold. Opening the bottle, I filled up the glass, and then placed the water bottle back into the fridge.

Carrying the glass carefully and slowly to avoid any spills, I walked all the way past the hallway, the dining area and into the servants' quarters. The house was eerily quiet. Rubina must have been fast asleep.

I paused outside of Rashida's door. It was shut. Cautiously I knocked on the door, gently.

"Come." Rashida's regal voice beckoned me in.

Carefully opening the door, I walked in ... and then I nearly dropped the glass!

Rashida had taken off her sari. And her blouse. She was dressed in only a bra and petticoat! Her bra, as always, was too small, and struggled to contain her big melons. I could see the outline of her areole as her boobs jiggled and wrestled with each other. Quite a lot of her body was on display, including her ample tummy, her deep navel and all of back. Her petticoat was just below her jiggling stomach, so all of her big waist was visible.

"What are you looking at, baba!" Rashida grumbled. "Close the door and come on in. One would think you had never seen me naked."

"Er ... yes, bua. Of course, bua."

"And why are you standing there with the water!" Rashida thundered. "If I am your queen, as you often say, then kneel down and present the water to me!"

"Er ... yes, bua. Of course, bua."

I knelt down and held the glass up with my hands. Rashida came and took the glass from me and started to drink the water. She finished it within a few gulps.

"Good." She remarked. "It's clean and the water is cold."

I remained kneeling on the floor. Rashida walked to a side table and placed the glass there, and then she dragged a wooden chair to the middle of the room, before sitting down on it.

"Come here and kiss my feet." She ordered.

"Yes, bua."

For the next ten minutes I was in heaven. I bent my head down and kissed my maid servant's bare feet. I made sure to pay proper homage to her, kissing and sucking each toe, and licking the space between each toes, making sure there was no dirt or sweat left on her feet, giving little nibbles to her heel, and smooching at her ankles.

"Alright, baba." Rashida snapped her fingers. "Enough."

"Er ... yes, bua."

Rashida gently bent down and reached out with her right hand. My left ear was soon in her vice like grip as she twisted it.

"Ouch!" I could not help by yelp as she pinched my earlobe hard.

"It's way past your bed time, baba." Rashida told me, giving me a proper kaan dola. "And yet here you are, in your maid servant's room, naked and kneeling, you naughty little boy!"

"Yes, bua."

"And what is your reason for not being in bed now, baba?" Rashida continued to painfully pull my ear.

"Er ... bua." I didn't know what to say. "I was out on a lovely date, bua. With a lovely someone."

"Hmmph!" Rashida snorted. "Say it like you mean it, baba."

She gave my ear another sharp twist.

"Bua." I gathered my thoughts. "I really love you, bua. I love you with all of my heart. I am your slave, your bitch, and I will do anything for you. And this is why I was thrilled to go out on a date with you, my love. And this is why, bua, I am not in bed now."

"Is that so, baba?"

I said nothing as Rashida let go of my left year, and then reached out with her left hand to grab my right ear.

"Why did you flirt with Zarine, baba?" She asked me, as she started to pull my right ear.

"I am sorry, bua. Ow!"

"Sorry isn't good enough, Tarek." Rashida twisted my ear sharply. "If you are really in love with me, as you claim to be, you shouldn't be looking at any other woman."

"Er ... yes, bua. I will not flirt with her, bua."

"You get distracted so easily, Tarek. Even today, when you were at that restaurant, you sneaked a couple of looks at that young waitress. You thought I didn't notice you ogling her?"

"Er ... I am sorry, bua."

SLAP!

Rashida had let go of my ear, raised her hand and had calmly slapped me.

"Do you know why I slapped you, baba?"

"Er ... no, bua."

SLAP!

"The right ..."

SLAP!

"... answer ..."

SLAP!

"... is that you will never flirt with or EVEN LOOK AT another woman, EVER AGAIN!"

SLAP!

"Not just Zarine. Not just any waitress."

SLAP!

"ANY woman!"

SLAP!

"Your entire focus, your entire devotion, your entire objective -- should be me!"

SLAP!

"Do you understand, baba?"

SLAP!

I fervently nodded.

"Yes, bua. I am very sorry, bua. You know I love you, bua."

SLAP!

"Now get up, Tarek. Come and stand in front of me."

"Yes, bua."

My knees creaked a bit as I stood up. I had been on my knees for almost half an hour.

"Good." Rashida commanded. "Now turn around. Place yourself on my lap, and over my knees."

"Yes, bua."

As I lay across her knees, my penis buried between her big legs, Rashida caressed my buttocks.

"Your pasa is nice and smooth, baba." She commented. "Soon it will be very red."

"Er ... yes, bua. I submit my pasa to you, bua."

"Shut up, baba."

SPANK!

The blow had been fast, sudden and quick.

"Over the last couple of weeks," Rashida said patting my bum, caressing the area she had just hit, "I had to discipline you for many things, Tarek."

SPANK!

"Trying to hump my friend Farida. Flirting with Zarine. Leaving the toilet seat up and peeing outside."

SPANK!

"I am so sorry, bua."

"You should be trained in these things by now."

SPANK!

Rashida continued to spank me in earnest. I had prepared myself all day for this, so was ready for it as she started to whoop my ass.

SPANK!

"Have you been a good boy, baba?"

"Er ... I think so, bua."

SPANK!

"Do good boys get a spanking, baba?"

"Er ... no, bua."

SPANK!

"And so, how are you a good boy, baba?"

"I am sorry, bua."

Years of being her slave and subject to her punishments weekly had made my buttocks quite tolerant, and I was now used to severe spankings from her, so initially it didn't matter.

SPANK!

"If you are a proper good boy, baba, why do I spank you? Do you think I have lots of time to waste?"

"I am sorry, bua. I know I am still not perfect in pleasing you, bua."

SPANK!

"Like ... the whole thing with Farida ... should never have happened!"

"Yes, bua. I am sorry, bua."

SPANK!

But slowly, as she increased her intensity, my ass started to sting.

SPANK!

"Look at your cute red butt, baba. It's going to get even redder! Are you scared, baba?"

"Er ... bua. I am your slave; yours to be punished."

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

"Tarek!" Rashida suddenly commanded. "Get yourself up now, young man. Let's have a look at that bottom of yours."

"Er ... yes, bua."

As I stood there, Rashida carefully examined my buttocks, before making me turn around.

"Tarek." Rashida reached up and gently cupped one of my testicles. "Your balls seem to be full of cum."

My chubby maid servant kneaded my ball for a minute and then stroked my dick.

"It's your lucky day, Tarek." She commented. "Your mother is not here. Rubina is not interested in you. And here you are, getting your cock and balls rubbed by your female maid servant."

I wisely remained silent.

"How long has it been since you have cum, baba?"

"Er ... almost three weeks, my dear bua." I told her.

"Hmm." Rashida absent mindedly gave me a couple of strokes before looking at my face. "And really, three weeks? That was when you masturbated last, right?"

"Yes, my dear bua."

"I see." Rashida smiled. "And you think four days ago some other guy jerked off in your room into some tissues and flushed them down the toilet, thinking I wouldn't know?"

I was very silent. I could hide nothing from Rashida.

"Get me my sandal, baba."

"Er ... yes, bua."

Pretty soon I was back over her knees, and this time she had a sandal in her hand. Masturbating without her permission was always reason for severe punishment. And so was lying.

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

Normally when I was spanked, I would count each hit and then apologize for it. Now there was no time; she was spanking me quite fast.

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

"When have I said no to you, Tarek, when you asked me for permission to cum? Baba, talk to me! WHEN?!!"

"I am sorry, bua. I should have asked, bua."

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

"I put limits on your masturbation for your own good, Tarek. And yet you continue to defy me!"

"I am so, so sorry, bua. Please forgive me, bua."

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

"How can you think I wouldn't know? Don't you think I know? I know everything you do!"

How HAD she known?

"I am so sorry, bua."

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!

"Stand up, Tarek."

"Yes, bua. Thank you, bua."

This time there was no hiding it; my butt was on fire.

"Go and stand in the corner, Tarek. Face towards the window, your nose should be touching the wall."

"Yes, bua."

For a long time I remained standing there. I didn't mind; at least I wasn't getting spanked and my bottom was getting a break. After some time Rashida called me again.

"Baba, get me that bag from the cabinet, behind the bed. Yes, the second drawer."

Dutifully I brought the bag to her. She was seated on the chair in the middle of the room.

"Take what you have inside the bag and give it to me." Rashida ordered.

"Yes, my bua."