Superstition Led to Seduction

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Ann takes advantage of superstitious Bhushan.
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annash
annash
73 Followers

Special Thanks to Roman for editing and proof reading.

*****

It's almost been 10 months since I left Airline industry. I wasn't all that keen for a new job, but wasting days and months killing time wasn't a good idea. There were plenty of openings in the BPO sector with good pay. I'm grateful to dad; he was the one who, about four years ago, persuaded me to complete my post graduation and get an MBA in Human Resources. I was reluctant in the beginning, but dad had this uncanny ability to convince me, being a professional tutor and a university lecturer he knew that someday MBA degree would rescue me.

I immediately received a call from few outsourcing companies. My resume was uncomplicated with 10 straight years of experience in airline industry as an air hostess. The minimum requirement was an MBA in HR. Everything looked perfect except, that I completed my post graduation through distance mode. This could pose a legitimate problem. However, it would be worth giving a try.

This was my second interview in the last decade. The interview went smooth. I was presentable and the least nervous when compared to the other candidates. My confidence was sky-high and of course all the other miscellaneous traits like beauty and a sexy figure which were required for air hostess jobs did wonders here. I may be less knowledgeable in some subjects when compared to other candidates who just received their degrees through regular college. I had some traits which the HR manager found interesting. In other words the glamour factor and prior experience in airlines worked in my favor.

I was delighted to see the offer letter and the package looked good. It was a kind of a non-voice BPO company, mostly dealing with back end support for US clients. I had no responsibility and had enough bank balance which I accumulated for 10 years. Money was never a problem as I was an only child. For 30 year old women the offer was great. Most importantly I didn't have to travel much. The company was a 10 minute ride from my apartment. The shift timings were ideal, the standard 9 to 5.

I purchased a two-wheeler moped to commute and the regular routine job started.Coincidentally, my job timings were similar to Government offices. I still missed the glamour and excitement of being an air hostess, but this job had stability. There were more chances of going astray working as an air hostess and innumerable opportunities to get laid with handsome, high profile men. Here, in this sober environment of my colony I had to create opportunities but vigilance was required as people are hypocrites. It was a mix-match of tradition and superstition. I still had an opportunity a couple of months ago to unleash my exhibitionist side. The target was Jamal my neighbor's son.

(That incident had been described in my previous story.)

One evening while returning from work, I decided to buy some groceries. The shop was right opposite to my apartment. I parked my vehicle and when I entered the shop, I saw my neighbor Krishna shouting at Vikram. Vikram was a shop owner and there seemed to be an argument. Vikram had always been a shrewd business man. He was notorious for not returning any small change after the purchase; instead of money he would give a small chocolate in exchange.

I ignored their argument and started picking up my stuff, but soon realized that Krishna wasn't targeting Vikram. His real target was Bhushan. Vikram recently hired nineteen year old Bhushan to run a few errands like unloading the goods from truck or to deliver groceries to nearby houses. It was a minor issue. Bhushan packed less sugar which made Krishna irate, and that's how the verbal spate began. In the entire episode Bhushan was on the receiving end. He had to bear with the insults and abuses. Meanwhile, Vikram's intention was to mitigate the problem. He was constantly looking for an amicable solution. After all Krishna was his old time customer and he didn't want to lose him for a silly reason. In the end compromise was made. Poor Bhushan had to apologize for an innocent mistake. Krishna wasn't pleased with the apology. He was still furious and left in hurry.

When I reached home I kept wondering why Krishna was angry on this minor issue. Bhushan didn't deserve all these insults. Krishna was a bank manager already in mid 50s; he was an uptight, and always led an austere quality of life. Once dad arrived I narrated the entire incident. Dad was flabbergasted. He kept on mumbling things like caste superiority, discrimination, racism etc. I could figure out his disgust; in past on several occasion he had shown his indignation towards discrimination.

Once he finished his anti-caste ranting he explained everything to me. Krishna being from the upper-caste never misses an opportunity to target anyone from lower caste. He despised people like Bhushan who are taking advantage of the reservation system in government jobs and universities. I never knew that Bhushan was a lower caste Dalit pursuing his education and working part time in a grocery shop. Dad started his unending speech on Indian social institutions and social stratification, marginalization and caste system etc - and how the upper caste people still discriminate the lower caste Dalits.

Once he finished the unusually long lecture. I innocently told him that Bhushan doesn't look like a Dalit. Bushan was fair, tall and an athletic built. Dad then explained that Bhushan's father was a Dalit married to a lambada woman. He had a mixed gene pool of Dalit and Lambada. No wonder he had a fair complexion which he received from his mother side. Lambdas are the gypsies of India; they belong to the other backward caste. They usually dwell on the outskirts or forest, often involved in small trade. Five thousand years ago they migrated to India from Afghanistan by crossing the Indus River. Their women are fair and beautiful. They wear colored dress, folk ornaments and bangles. They are spread across India and speak a different dialect; many of them over the centuries have mastered the regional languages spoken across India. They are intelligent and very good with numbers. Unfortunately, caste system remained a barrier; the community remained backward and illiterate.

I was fascinated to hear about Bhushan, he had an interesting gene pool and a fine combination of a dark Dalit father and fair lambada mother. I thought why not help this underprivileged youth in my own way. Dad had a similar idea. In fact Dad also offered him free tuition's which he politely refused. I suggested that why not opt for a home delivery from Vikram's shop; as Bhushan is responsible for the delivery part. On every home delivery we can pay him a small tip. In that way we would be doing our little bit for this poor chap; who often faces discrimination from society's patriarchal mentality. Dad gleefully accepted.

After fifteen days; one evening I called Vikram, and ordered some stuff. Since Bhushan wasn't available, he said it would take a couple of hours for home delivery. Dad went to a wedding party with his friends. Since it was a Hyderabadi Muslim marriage, they won't return home until midnight.

I logged into my facebook account, my pervert of a friend Jeremy was online. We started chatting. He was inquiring about Jamal. I diverted the topic, I had no intention to share my previous exhibitionist experience with him. He wouldn't mind pestering me to sleep with Jamal which I would never dare to do. Jeremy was a psychologist living in United States. Our conversations often start with something intellectually stimulating, but my perverted friend sedulously brings in sexual perversion.

He is fun to talk to, and always shares some unique information. I would go so far as to call him an intellectual pervert. For one hour we chatted on myriad stuff. Then he told me to login to yahoo-messenger, well this was an indication for strip tease. I wonder why he doesn't get bored watching me naked all the time. Before he could say something I switched on the cam and adjusted in the right direction. I was dressed in a short black pencil skirt above my knees, and a low cut white top, exposing good amount cleavage. The cam was directed towards my knees and skirt. I was sitting on a bamboo sofa. There was enough space to move back.

I parted my legs, hoisting my short skirt further up. This gave him a perfect view of my bottom half -my fleshy hips and inner thighs. And most important my black cotton panties were in full view. I always wondered why he wanted me to do this. He always loved the slow strip tease, with plenty of teasing involved.

He then instructed me to remove my top. I quickly removed my white top and adjusted the cam, my round boobs and taut nipples were on full display. I started squeezing them-pressing them from both ends. I was brazenly exposing myself in front of the cam, giving him a nice panty and tit show. I honestly loved it. This unleashed my inner slut. I then stood up moved back and removed my skirt. I was virtually naked with only my black cotton panties covering me. I kept adjusting the cam and made sure he saw plenty of me. I was confident that he must be going crazy on the other side of the world watching this whitish oriental beauty from east. This white man with blond hair was crazy about Indian women.

Suddenly bell rang. That brought me out of the reveries I quickly typed "someone at the door" and got dressed. I completely lost track of time between chatting and the striptease. Meanwhile, the bell rang another couple of times. I immediately opened the door and it was Bhushan. By any standards for a small town boy like Bhushan I was sexily dressed. The door was fully open, he quickly moved all the stuff inside and handed me the bill. I quickly went to my room for some cash and additional tip. I checked the laptop and my pervert friend was still online, there were innumerable messages and kinky words describing my body, he never fails to express his deep desire to fuck me in those Kamasutra positions.

I typed 'hi'. He immediately replied, I told him that there was a chap from the nearby grocery store. Jeremy started teasing me; he started insinuating naughty ideas to flash Bhushan. I was confused for a moment, and then I thought it won't be a bad idea. All I needed was to buy some time and make him stay. I thought why not give him some additional work. As I came out of the room, I saw Bhushan distressed; he seemed jittery. I ignored these signs and requested him to shift all that stuff to the kitchen. He reluctantly agreed and cautiously started to shift things to the kitchen. I sat on the chair, ensuring that my skirt was hitched up; also instructing where to place things. He was frightened to make any eye contact, his behavior was strange. My bare legs and the shortness of my miniskirt would any time draw attention of any young men. But this chap seemed weird. I bend forward to show my cleavage, which made him nervous. He started sweating. Then I moved back and opened my legs, my panties were blatantly exposed. He gave a quick glance and started shivering. This seemed bizarre; he increased his pace and quickly shifted everything to the kitchen. I got up by spreading my legs wide enough with my panties fully on display, instead of generating some excitement the teasing backfired. When I handed him the money with extra tip, he was so horrified, that he dropped the change and left the apartment at a brisk pace.

I had no clue for this sort of reaction, and kept thinking about it all night. Next morning while going to work, I saw Bhushan at a temple. His eyes were closed and hands were joined, in a Namaste position. I wondered why this lower caste boy still holds temple and deities in such high esteem. The same Gods have deserted him, but his reverence for such Gods remains intact. It was a combination of guilt and fear-well orchestrated by high priests Brahmin. They had justification for ill-treating this lower caste boy, first through guilt, that due to his bad Karma in past life he was cursed and born in a lower caste. The next was the universal method to instill fear. That if he continues, he would be born into a much degraded form of sub-human or animal in the next life. The only way to move upward is to acquiesce to the demands of the high priests and unquestioningly accept his destiny having to silently bear the discrimination.

This industry of fear has been around for thousands of years, but social reformers and enlightened people in every era have questioned this barbaric practice and discrimination. My dad has also played his small part in emancipation of lower caste. I initially thought about attempting a small talk with Bhushan, but decided against it and left for work.

The next morning, I took bath and came out of the bathroom in a small black bathrobe way above my knees. When I entered the room, there were seven missed calls from Dad. I quickly gave a call back; he said Bhushan might come in any moment. Dad ordered five kilos of basmati rice. He also informed me the place where he kept the money and additional tip. As soon as he hung up, door bell rang. I rushed towards the door and knew that it was Bhushan. And it was him, I felt excited, great opportunity to tease I thought. Bhushan was scared to death; he entered the hall as if he was entering some haunted place. Looking at his face I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to flash. The parting of the robe gave a full view of my thighs and the cleavage was well on display. I bet forward towards the dining table to grab the five hundred rupees note and accidentally the knot on my robe got disentangled, the rope fell and the two sides of the robe were parted. I stood there naked in full glory. My hairy pussy and round boobs were fully displayed. My semi-wet naked body was fully exposed. This was an outright accidental exposure, before I could apologize Bhushan; he shouted Bhoot! Bhoot! Meaning Ghost Ghost and ran away.

I felt confounded; people around the colony would do the impossible to watch me naked and here is an open offer which he had rejected. He became more inaccessible in the coming days. I tried to approach him to find out the reason for this strange behavior. But he resisted every attempt.

One night I was returning home from an office party, it was 9:00 PM. I had a couple of drinks, but I was not completely drunk. I was wearing a white blouse tucked into a black circular skirt which covered my knees. Few girls including me were provided a cab and home drop. The driver dropped me at the entrance and the guard escorted me to the elevator. I entered the elevator and as the first floor came the elevator opened I could see the back of Bhushan, he was dragging a huge sack of rice. He didn't notice me. He entered, and kept the heavy sack on the other side- and pressed the seventh floor. I was thrilled. This was a great opportunity to do something naughty. Once he turned back tears started flowing of his eyes. He was scared to find himself alone with me in the elevator. Although I wasn't that drunk, but couple of drinks did remove my inhibition. I smiled and watching him scared doubled my excitement. In that very moment I hiked my skirt high above the navel region. My high-cut Blue panties were completely exposed. I turned back to show my behind. I thought at least he would be turned on by looking at my big ass. But he closed his eyes and started chanting some mantras. I was petrified. He started pleading me not to harm him. He even got on his knees and begged. This strange reaction made me nervous. I dropped my skirt and requested him to calm down. The seventh floor came and the doors opened he quickly tried to drag the heavy sack and fell on the ground, that was hilarious I started laughing.

Once I reached home. I wondered why he behaved in this strange manner, something was seriously wrong. I desperately wanted to know the truth. He might be gay. But why does he fear me? I wondered.

One week after the incident. I was returning home on my two-wheeler Moped. I saw Bhushan in the small lane-and immediately stopped. Then quickly drove towards him and stopped my vehicle in front of him. That evening I was determined to find the truth. He ignored and dodged me and quickly moved forward at a brisk pace. I didn't back off and started following him. When he was about to run, I shouted and threatened to complain his boss Vikram of eve teasing. I know I was being mean, but there was no alternative. The only option was blackmail. My compliant can jeopardize his job and any complaint from a woman would permanently ruin his career. He walked towards me and fell on my feet to forgive and leave him alone, and incessantly started taking the names of various Gods and Goddesses that he remembered. That didn't please me a bit, I was a born Atheist.

I instructed him to sit behind me, which he meekly obeyed and we zoomed towards the main road. We went to 'Coffee Day' and quickly occupied a sofa, and sat facing each other. I ordered two cappuccinos and started probing about his strange behavior. I shamelessly asked him about his sexual orientation. He quickly cleared that doubt, and confirmed that he was straight. He initially resisted revealing the real reason for his awkward behavior but my incessant probing worked. He at last opened up and what he said shook my very existence. He said that I'm possessed by a spirit. The coffee was ready, I felt like throwing the hot coffee on his face but somehow managed to control my anger. I felt it is better to opt for a reasonable approach and hear him out.

I asked him the reason why he thinks that I'm possessed by a spirit; I don't behave in a strange manner. My face color or voice never changes. He explained that every spirit is different; this spirit is of a young women and she never gives any indication. She works silently so that no one is suspicious. Any person that she enters would not show any indication of being possessed. Even the person wouldn't know that he or she is possessed. I wonder why invisible spirits had to use stealth to enter a body. According to Bhushan ; this spirit is different if she enters a women body she starts behaving like a slut. I couldn't blame him here, because of all the naughty stuff I did.

Suddenly I remembered the story of one such spirit, which I heard long time ago. This story is about a young woman, her name was Bikuma. The incident happened 70 years ago in the same place where our apartment is built. The land belonged to a rich aristocrat, Nawab. There was a Haveli (private mansion) on the same land. Bikuma was a maid servant and extremely beautiful. The rich aristocrat Nawab was madly in love with her. They had a torrid love affair and he impregnated her. The family got to know about his misdeeds so they poisoned Bikuma and sent the Nawab to Aligarh Muslim University in Lukhnow for higher education. Nawab died one year after from falling from a horse. Since then the spirit of Bikuma has been loitering around the apartment. There are plenty of rumors about sightings of her. The story came to light from some mysterious and unreliable sources.

The surrounding area and locality was excellent, only the resale value dipped because of Bikumas haunted story. The dealer's, brokers and builders did their best to first get rid of the archaic structure, which was left deserted for nearly five decades. They then dealt with plenty of legal hassles as the structure could become a heritage site. Once the apartments were sold; people came to know about the haunted story. People with myriad stand point right from religious bigots, superstitious, Castist found ways to mitigate the dangers. They couldn't do much on the financial side as the purchases were done, but plenty of options were available on the superstition front. Our neighbor Krishna would perform yagnas and pujas every six months and doesn't mind paying a hefty amount to those Brahmins, who perform some strange rituals and recite Sanskrit Slokas. He even saved money to build a small temple inside the apartment premises. Sadiq often calls a Sufi saint from a Dargah to ensure that the evil spirit doesn't harm his family. The saint would only brush the walls with the sweep made out of peacock feathers while reciting some Arabic verses. He keeps revising his fee every six months and makes additional demands. Dad kept his cool thanks to his rational and Atheistic world-view that we were saved from this unending gibberish superstition, and also saved some money.

annash
annash
73 Followers
12