Sweet Mangala, The Journey Starts

I have come to understand there will be always men who greedily look at me and want to use my hot body and will behave the way Wolfgang the first German guy did when he deflowered me during the first long night I arrived in New York and stayed with him in his large hotel suite.

Perhaps I was fortunate! He was very experienced and strong and knew how to corrupt and use an innocent young girl during the next three weeks, until he flew back to Germany.

I was so sweet and innocent when I met him, a beautiful flower, mistaking the way he looked at me for kindness and respect. I thought I could trust him and had no idea of his true intention, his cruelty, his insistence, his sexual dominance over me during the days to come.

I met him on the flight from Paris to New York. We both flew first class with Air France to New York and I thought he was like my Dad, serious and very well dressed, older and nice, as in the beginning he did not show any interest in me and was reading his documents and magazines.

After the second glass of champagne we talked and during dinner I told him about India, how my marriage was fixed, and the dowry decided, without any concern how smart and intelligent I was, this was done with a business partner of my father who was much older and not the dream person I had in mind.

How all my life my parents had ordered me around how to be a good girl, choosing my friends, deciding what I should do or not do and I had accepted this. With my new husband it would not be much different, even worse and this created my predicament. I was not attracted to him, he was much older and the way he looked at me made me finally run away to the west, to escape from this.

But the reality was also, sitting in the airplane, I had no idea where to stay in New York and needed first to sell some of my jewellery because I had little money. My Dad was furious when he found out that his pretty daughter had left and cancelled all my debit and credit cards to force me to come back home to my well-ordered and sophisticated life.

His name was Wolfgang, and he was much older and was very understandable and nice about it and smiled when he looked at me, telling me if he needed gladly would assist me when asked. He told me not to worry that I looked like a Princess and he would treat me like his own daughter and protect me.

Already on the flight we had been drinking too much wine, celebrating my freedom. I realized my good fortune: I had met a nice and clearly rich civilized gentleman, who would help me during the first days in to start my new life.

The wine made me happy and careless; I felt comfortable and told him about my plans to work as a model first. I saw him smile and told me via his investment company in New York he would introduce me to some model agencies and agents. He became my new Daddy and I kissed him on his cheek to thank him for his kindness when he said I could have everything I wanted, without realizing I was going to pay him back with my body the same night.

He thought it best that I stay in a separate bedroom in the suite in the Plaza hotel, and I felt intimidated and I accepted. Then even if I had wanted to refuse I would not have been able; when we arrived in New York he had a limo waiting and we drove us to the Plaza hotel where I stayed the next three weeks.

He in his mid-forties, so very nice, fit and very charming, in a fatherly way and took me to some shops in the hotel and bought me a pretty black silk strapless dress , some black lingerie from La Perla which was really very beautiful, black stockings and high heeled shoes.

The dress was low cut, showing the swell of my young breasts and much shorter than I ever had worn, it embarrassed me and I protested that it was too short, but he told me not to sound like a spoiled girl; then the shop owner, a very classy Lady and other people watching me told me they liked it, insisted and I had to accept.

When we got to his apartment he told me to give him my passport and jewellery to put in his safe to keep both safe and I complied. At that moment I had no idea of his true intention. I saw how he looked at me with his dark eyes and smiled.

He insisted we go out for dinner and I wear the dress, together with the black lingerie. He said it in the same strong tone my Dad spoke to me when I was ordered me to do things and I understood I would have to obey him too and did not mind, since I always was around strong powerful men.

After a nice bath I stepped into the clothes he had bought and looked at myself in the mirror and felt really beautiful, proud and felt very sexy and ready to embrace my new life in the west. All my life I had been forced to hide my body; but now I could show it, show my long legs. But my dress was too revealing, it was hugging my body and when I noticed him looking at the low décolleté I felt more naked than dressed. I had never looked like this and the way he looked made me also uncomfortable.

I felt unsteady on the new high heels, the kind I was never allowed to wear. When we walked into the restaurant, it only served to draw more attention to me. I was very aware of all the stares, men and women alike were all watching at me and felt uncomfortable in the low cut dress, seeing how the waiter leered at me, at my cleavage when he stood next to me looking down at me. I realized the bra was not padded and everybody could see my hard nipples pressed against the thin material. At home I had never worn bras without soft pads, garters or high heels like this.

During dinner we drank Champagne and it gave me a real warm feeling. I told him about my family, the servants and our big black driver Samuel who got fired for looking at me; how jealous my mother was and how I had protested and cried against my mother's choice of my future husband.

I did not wish to lose my sense of self-respect, chosen because of the seize of the considerable dowry, my parents offered to my future husband, I did not want to be sold like a cow on the market. But by running away two weeks before the grand wedding, I had disgraced my family and would be punished severely if I ever got back to India. With my life and the honour of my family at stake, I had little doubt as to what my fate would be.

Followed my escape from India my Grandfather had held a family court at his estate and all the senior members of our family were invited to discuss my misbehaviour, the shame I had brought and ultimately my punishment were discussed. At the end my family first of all disowned me, never to speak to me again.

The last time I spoke to my mother and remembered how she told me

"Child come back home and be a "good" and "decent"girl and marry this nice man we have chosen for you and do your duty. Don't waste your young life with white men who only want to use your body which is very evil of you and shameful for your Dad."

How angry, how incensed she was when I refused to return to my comfortable life back in India and called me a "Randi," and I saw Wolfgang grin in an evil way when he made me tell what Randi meant a "whore" and now I know which showed his despicable character.

He smiled and said

"How does that make you feel Mangala, are you a "Randi," and is your mother right, you are pretty enough to be a famous Randi on Park Avenue."

I felt so embarrassed and protested while he looked he smiled at me. It was very embarrassing when I said,

"No Wolfgang, I will never be a Randi, I am a "nice girl", I am a Virgin, which is the most precious gift from the Christian God I have received, which only to be released by my husband". For a "nice and decent" woman like me it is a matter of family honour to remain pure until my wedding day." How naïve and innocent I was, coming from a conservative family and growing up in a traditional moral culture, not understanding the west, his true intentions, how foolish it was to stay with a man in his apartment, not seeing his lusty desires for my body.

During that first night in New York I was deflowered, my nice and decent world unravelled and I started to travel on this one way street to my destiny.

He has given me some small jewellery just like my Dad would have done and made me feel very happy to celebrate my freedom. I ask him to be my new Daddy because I thought I could trust him. I told him all about my parents, my dad this companies and where I lived in India and drank more champagne.

Finally when we got back to the suite I felt dizzy but relaxed on the couch when he gave me a Cognac. I never felt like this, very funny", feeling warm and high and he had made some pictures with his cell phone of my sexy dress and showed me the pictures.

He sat close to me and slowly put his hand on my cheek. He cupped my chin, slowly caressing my cheek, looked in my eyes and I felt strange when his fingers touched my lips and he began thrusting in and out of my mouth; he pushed his thumb between my lips, touching my tongue, then he smiled and said,

"You are a bad girl Mangala, you have very sensual lips suck it, use your lips, use your tongue,"

I felt how his thump played inside with my tongue, closing my eyes seeing and remembering our black driver Samuel, how he always teased me as he talked about the boys who sent me messages or short poems and said I was a bad girl and must be punished; As in a dream I sucked his thumb, I was again fifteen years old obeying, eagerly sucking his thumb, recalling the images of Samuel who was so big and black as the night, how when he picked me up from school and during the weeks my parents where away in Europe for a few weeks. During this period I escaped from the other servants to the stable, where Samuel was always waiting and ordered me to come.

There in the back of the stable where nobody would find us big black Samuel would tell me in his dark voice almost making me become as I was in trance

"Mangala, you are gorgeous, but you know you drive the boys crazy, you are a bad girl and bad girl must be punished, don't they?"

Then he would smile and I would nod my head and say "yes Samuel, I am bad and bad girls must be punished."

He would tenderly touch my nose, my lips, and he would press his black finger against my lips pushing between my lips, in and out, in and out my mouth, that is how he made me lick his long black fingers, telling me to circle my tongue around his thumb and taught me to close my lips around his black finger licking and sucking his thumb with my lips wrapped around it and my tongue licking the way he liked for a long time, until I got it finally right.

Then a few days before my dad fired him, while we were in the stable I sucked his thumb because he told me to be a good girl and good girls obey; he made me open my white blouse and show him my young breasts and then he took my hand and made me finally feel his amazing hardness the servants gossiped about.

I felt his hand massaging my throat when he told to unzip his jeans and I did.

He showed himself to me in the stable in his magnificent glory and he made me touch him; that afternoon he made me lick the full length, just like I licked his fingers, licking his tip, stroking and slowly rub his beautiful black penis with my hand; these same images of his beautiful black penis, how I kissed him daily, opened my lips for him, are what keep me awake at night and which I had pushed away from my mind for so many years.

I was if I was in trance, obeying him as I let him in mouth, circling my tongue around his thumb, letting him move in and out between my lips and I sucked eagerly on his thump, until he let me stop and said

"that was very good Mangala, very sensual, you have a very able mouth, you are not that innocent, you have done this before!"

I felt warm and light headed, my face flushed when his hand brushed my body, touching my breast and I came finally to my senses when he took me hand to touch the front of his trousers,

"Mangala you made me hard." "Mangala, don't be a hypocrite, you are very exotic and attractive girl. You have very sensual lips and don't look at me with those big innocent eyes, you have sucked before and you will do it again."

"Darling, you look at men with your innocent eyes and you know you will not having any trouble meeting lots of men here who will give you roses , presents and they will take you for dinner and treat you very nice. Like tonight you will show your long sexy legs and your beautiful hard breasts; you know western men like your exotic body and you don't mind to show it; Mangala, your mother is right, deep inside you know this why you came, to have the kind of fun, a proper young lady like you can't have in India."

All of a sudden he send a shiver through me, I could feel the intense physical desire for me, the way he leered at my breasts, just like the waiters in the restaurant had stared at me. He slowly moved his eyes across my body. I felt as if his eyes were peeling off my clothes, undressing me with his intense eyes; he shocked me the way he now surveyed my body and I knew he was no different. The remark was so sneering and it shocked me wishing I was away from this evil black eyed man, wanting to run away, but where could I go.

Pulling away my hand I said,

"Please don't say this, you have no right to do this, my Dad would never do that, don't touch me like this!"

I pushed him away he smiled, and remarked

"Mangala has a temper, very nice Mangala, I like a women with a temper especial in bed,"

and again I said

"This is not nice, please don't say these things."

I was able to leave without any accident and saying good night I felt his black eyes on me as I went to my bedroom. When I was finally safe in my bedroom, I sat relieved on the bed, knowing I had to leave in the morning. I was groggy and felt dizzy as I unzipped my dress, dropped it to the floor just like I did at home to have the servant pick it up and jumped between the fresh sheets and calmed down and felt very comfortable and safe in my big bed between the silk sheets and dozed off.

All of a sudden before I realized what happened he was standing over me and I felt his hand on my shoulder, stroking my hair, I was so frightened and begged him,

"Please no, please don't."

"Please what,"

I felt his hand reach behind my head and touched my neck gently, and then the hand slid to my naked shoulder, kissing my neck, my ears and felt so alone. He said,

"Mangala, you will be a good girl, won't you and be nice for your new Daddy?"

He was behind me and begged him again, but he pulled away the covers coming came into my big bed; I felt him behind me and put his hands on my hips and grabbed my butt, kissed my neck. He laughed softly when I tried to get away from him. He slid his hands along my bare back and pulled my arms behind my back and both his hands began to explore my breasts.

I could not escape him; his hands made me tingle, my nipples were immediately stiffening against my tight bra and started to kiss my ear and biting my neck, I felt tears, begged and I tried to push his hand away but could not escape him. I could feel him behind me, he held me preventing from escaping his attentions as I twisted and turned. I begged him saying

"No please, I am not like this, I am a good girl."

I tried to move my hips away from him but he held my breasts with his big hands and I could feel him behind me. I heard him whispering

"Mangala, you disappoint me, you are not as innocent as you look; the way you look at men I know what you really want and need, you might be a Virgin, but tonight you are destined to serve a superior German man with your beautiful brown body."

I tried to object, pleaded but he held me and whispered

"I know what you want Mangala, I know what you need, it's in your teasing eyes, the way you look at all the trousers of men, thinking how to suck them, I know after the way you sucked my thumb, just like your mother says, she knows you want white men who use your brown sexy body, she knows this is why you came to the West."

"Which will it be Mangala, will you obey and be nice to me or would you like me to call your daddy now and tell him where you are, send him those sexy pictures. You looked gorgeous tonight, like an expensive escort, ready for it. Did you see how the waiters looked at your beautiful tits, seeing your hard nipples? Why do you think your nipples were so hard Mangala, begging to be touched?"

You know how your Daddy will react after how you have humiliated your family, you will be back in India in two days and Darling we both know how your family will punish you, they will put you in the monastery or perhaps worse?"

I was shattered and ask him

"Please no, you can't, you wouldn't really do that, would you?"

"Mangala darling, I don't want to call you Dad, I only want what is best for you, but I will if you do not behave and obey me,"

he grinned evil

"Darling, you must obey, get used to it, I am your new Daddy, your new Master; Your body is mine, you know you really have no choice."

I trembled, merely staring in the distance, feeling how he squeezed my breasts, his fingers and thumb rubbing me, but I had no strength to push his hand away, knowing he was right, I was losing control and felt so much shame; he had used my vulnerability and betrayed my trust; I lived in shame during the next three weeks with him and despite my protests at the first moments I had no illusions what would happen. I had made a terrible mistake by confessing to something that I should have never mentioned to a stranger. It was going to cost me dearly and would change my life forever.

I did not know what to do; I felt his hands and was scared. I just laid there and waited in my desperation praying he would go away and leave me alone. I hated my weakness but I begged him again not to do this, not to call my Dad, but I knew anything was better than to go back to India, even being with this old and ugly man who was rubbing his fingers and thumb around my nipple, feeling my nipple getting harder and harder.

I closed my eyes and felt the excitement between my legs; was it really going to happen, was I going to become a real women. I heard the voice of my mother,

"Mangala, you are a whore, you are wasting your young life with white men who only want to use your body and you know this!"

And I knew what was about to happen, what I was going to do and that I was forced to accommodate him, I knew I was going to be his whore.

He was the first man who touched me like this, even Samuel had never touched my young breasts like this, so ashamed I let him fondled my breasts through my bra, feeling the fear, the pleasure, the excitement of my nipples under his fingers. I knew it was no use as I felt his hand fondling my breasts and put my hand on his.

Now I know I should have stopped him, then my life would have been different, but I protested only in a minor way and let it happen. The truth is it felt so good when he touched my young proud breasts and squeezed my nipples.

Now I know how sensitive my nipples are, how easy it is to get me aroused, to drive me insane when they kiss my earlobe and my tender neck; when they touch my breasts; how easy I am when a real man insist, when they don't listen to my protests, hold me against the wall and push their hand between my legs, pulling my panties aside feeling their finger in me then my eyes close feeling hands exploring my hot body; how I love them rubbing my pussy, feeling the heat and I let them do what they want.

He teased me gently at first, almost tender and then becoming firmer in his touch as my nipples became harder and I was losing control. But I did not want to lose control, I did not want him; and tried to get away from his evil tongue. I was frightened when I felt his hands all over my naked skin, unable to stop him when he unhooked slowly the clasp of my bra, pushing my breasts out of my black lace bra and he pulled off my bra. I twisted and turned under his hands and begged him,