The Jezebel of India Ch. 06

Chapter Six

Once again, Ghadnar Singh found himself in the ranks of a foreign army, no longer and General, or even a Captain; now a lowly private soldier but at least he was alive. He stood at attention, whilst being reviewed by a fat, heavily bearded sergeant of foot. In the heat of a high noonday sun, he was drilled along with two other battalions of sepoys, musketeers and other mercenary troops on the square in Orchha town. In the heat haze, he spied the horseback commanders and above them the colours of the East India Company and the personal banners of tigers, and peacocks.

After nearly two hours, the drilling ceased and the men were dismissed. Ghadar sought the shade from the sun and watched carefully, as the fat sergeant waddled over to the commander and saluted clumsily and conferred with them. One of the men who had enlisted with him slumped down, with an open billet of water,

"If that sergeant hits me with that stick again, I'll slip a snake into his bed tonight!" Kabir chuckled, taking a draught from the billet tin.

"Don't you worry, we march soon? We've been here three weeks and if the army doesn't move soon, the rains will come and that means no campaign this year," Ghadnar mumbled, " I would make a better sergeant than the fat man and by the time we march, I'll have his stripes and his pretty woman in his tent!" Ghadnar, his eyes always open for opportunity had hated the sergeant on sight and envied the pretty, rounded bosom of his wife who cooked, fetched water for him and suffered his pathetic prick in her too. Ghadnar knew how to fix men like him, and he knew that camp wives shifted their allegiances quickly should the need arise.

True to his word, Ghadnar excelled in his soldiering, and was soon noticed by the weasel-like East India Company Lieutenant, fresh off the boat, and who weltered red-faced in the sun. Ghadnar, forever looking to gain advantage had insinuated himself into the inexperienced officer's good books and found himself attached as an orderly to attend the white officer. As he flattered and aided the green, twenty-three-year-old officer from a place called Sussex, in England, Ghadnar worked to gain his trust and soon was elevated to Corporal. One such sultry, sweaty evening, the officer spent gold on a young Indian whore, on recommendation by Ghadnar, and had her brought to his tent.

As Ghadnar escorted the red saree-dressed native whore, he whispered to her,

"Remember my little whore, it I who has found you a golden lion to mount and it is I who can take him away and find him another girl. If I am to keep you in the pale Englishman's bed, I will have three of your coins, what do you say?" Ghadnar knew the value of rich white officers to the town's whores and the young woman knew it,

"I will pay the gold if you keep me in his bed," She whispered, smiling. She disliked Ghadnar immediately but knew that having an agent in the camp was like a river of gold to her.

"Not only your gold but when the English lieutenant has used his little pasty prick, you will come to me and I will fill your cunny this night. I will be waiting to escort you back to the brothel and you may pleasure me on the way," Ghadnar always found a way to satisfy his desires one way or another. As the pretty woman entered the tent, the lieutenant paid her the fee in gold, he turned down the lam in his tent as she knelt in front of him and sucked his little prick.

Ghadnar had other things to think about. He worked his plan against the sergeant of the infantry and knew that time was short, as the campaign would soon be on them. However, he had a pet English officer, and he would whisper in the inexperienced officer's ear and seed the sergeant's downfall; he would need to put the sergeant's stripes in jeopardy and the first nail in his coffin was his pretty, generously breasted wife. As he waited for the little whore to tease the seed from the pasty Englishman, he sat on his haunches and watched the camp. He had been watching the comings and goings of the officers and the sergeant, he knew guard changes, the camp followers and the secrets of an army camp. He wanted for the appointed hour, and soon enough, the sergeant emerged from the darkness, dressed in a clean uniform and wandered off towards the town. A few minutes later, his wife appeared with a large copper water butt, balanced on her head. Ghadnar glanced back to the Englishman's tent and the muffled sound of the whore gagging on the Englishman's white prick. He guessed he would have a few minutes, and so set off quietly and intercepted the sergeant's pretty wife, dressed loosely in a white saree blouse and pleats, as she made her way to the well. It was usual for Indian women to draw and carry water, but he had watched her and scrutinized her.

There was something wrong, something intangible, but he was certain of it. but he couldn't divine what the issue was. He needed to make a direct approach and hope he might find out the sergeant's secret. As he approached, he saw how she moved. Although blessed with large round breasts, she had a fat belly and a shapely round pair of buttocks. Ghadnar enjoyed the sight, and his prick stiffened lightly. She was quite lovely and now, as he came close, he noticed her floral scent and beneath that her womanly odour.

He wanted this woman. He wanted to have this woman beneath him, begging him to fuck her.

"Good evening, you should be careful in the darkness, Shreematee Kabir-Singh!" Ghadnar used her formal title, and she turned and smiled warmly,

"Thank you Sinik Labbi-Singh, that is most gracious of you to escort me home," She knew him, probably from her husband's bad-mouthing but Ghadnar ignored the barb.

"I am honoured that someone so beautiful would recognise me. It was my privilege to escort such a dutiful and lovely wife of the sergeant," Ghadnar smiled slyly, "Your husband has been blessed to have such a wife as yourself," Ghadnar walked with her, and then as he spoke, the woman shrugged indifference. Immediately, he picked up on the shrug, seeing that this indifference highlighted some rift between them. A rift that he might widen, as he wanted to widen her legs and allow him inside her.

"The sergeant has other calls upon his attention, "She sighed, then stopped herself and then tried to recover, "and duties that he must attend to!" Her voice sharpened, hoping that Ghadnar hadn't picked up on her tone,"

"Of course, the sergeant is a busy man," The pair walked back to her tent,

"Thank you, you are very kind to me," She smiled again, Ghadnar smiled back and chanced his arm,

"Might I have your name, I am Ghadnar, the servant to the young English officer, and soon to be another sergeant I hope in the light company. Ghadnar inflated his opportunities, but the wife blushed and smiled,

"I'm Mara.." she ducked through the tent flap and Ghadnar smiled with his head filled with opportunities but he needed more information about the sergeant's pre-occupations and then noticing that his officer's tent light had come back, hurried over to find the pretty whore emerging, buttoning up her saree blouse.

"I hope you pleasured the officer, as you have been well-paid!" Ghadnar pointed out to her.

"He is well satisfied, and now I assume you want your compensation too?" The whore scowled, now dressed, peering in the darkness.

In a flash of inspiration, a question formed "Do you know the fat sergeant of the regiment here?"

"Oh! the fat bullock!" She chuckled, "He is well known in the brothels of the town and the city, he likes the younger girls and he likes the dirty hole!" The whore walked on, knowing now that her knowledge was of greater value than her body,

"So, the little wife doesn't give him what he wants!" Ghadnar mused, looking ahead. The whore chuckled again,

"Well she did when she was in our stable, but she was younger then," She chuckled again, the taste of the Englishman's seed still in her mouth. She spat in the dust.

"What? She was a whore?" Ghadnar repeated, mildly shocked and then smiled with the news, " No that is of great interest to me,"

"She was given his name, so the white sahibs won't bother her, but now she is a woman, with melons," The whore cupped and giggled her own smaller breasts to emphasise the sergeant's wife's breasts, " he doesn't open her cunny anymore," As the camp disappeared in the distance, Ghadnar pulled the whore to one side of the track and onto the low field,

"Time for you to pay up," Ghadnar, his mind racing found his prick was now painfully stiff and in need of satisfaction. The whore moaned, hoping she had avoided his attention with the information. As she settled to her knees, she thought of something else to bargain with,

"if I tell you something else, you will find interesting, you will settle for my mouth!" She bargained,

"Tell me first and if the information is valuable then I will agree, "Ghadnar had no real intention of letting this pretty whore go without splitting her cunny with his prick, but the idea of more information seized his interest,"

"The fat sergeant owes debts to the whore masters from gambling. He loses often and he delivers coins from his pay each month. If his pay stopped or his debts increased, the fat bullock would probably be forced to sell the wife back to the brothel or find a dagger between his ribs!" The whore pulled open the jodhpurs and found the stiff prick and began to wet the head with wide, slow licks from her tongue.

She could taste his salty wetness, as he held her head enjoying her skilful ministrations. Ghadnar, his cruel and sly character was already forming a plan, but time was not an ally to him. The campaign would begin soon, and if he was to have the pretty bosomed wife as his own, he would need to act fast. He looked down at the whore sliding her mouth onto his fat prick and then thrust himself into his throat, causing her to gag loudly. He kept up the thrusting, long strings of white drool fell from the whore's mouth as she struggled to take his prick. Ghadnar smiled as a new idea formed.

"Enough of your mouth, stand up against the tree and open your pleats, I want to enjoy your cunny. Perhaps soon, you will be visiting me when I am the new sergeant!" Ghadar pushed her to the low branch, and set her hands up, as he pulled her pleats down, revealing her dark buttocks to the moonlight. Instinctively, the whore gathered the dribble from her mouth and wiped it onto her cunny lips, and slipped a finger into herself to ease the fucking that Ghadnar's prick would give her being an experienced whore, she also smeared some more drool on her dirt hole, as a precaution knowing this man could not be trusted to keep his prick in one hole; she knew she would suffer tonight- but her had kept her money.

At the same moment in time, Governor Rose was indulging in a favourite game in the officer's mess in Saugor divisional headquarters in the southern part of the country. A lithe, native girl of only eighteen years was being chased around the mess, being slapped on her naked buttocks with the flat edge of the men's sabres. The girl squealed in pain and fear as she attempted to avoid the blades striking her.

"Run little fox!" Governor Rose yelled with obvious excitement, his stiff prick tenting his breeches and waiting for the girl to run near him so he may aim another swing at her. The other five officers, all drunk and aroused at the sight of the naked girl all wanted to land the perfect blow across both buttocks claim the woman and force her to one of their beds that night. Rose raised his sabre and as the girl came within distance caught her as she ran past, but with the excessive brandy and his tired arm, his blade caught her and drew blood. The woman screamed loudly and then whimpered as the scratch blood trickled down her back and onto her right buttock and tumbled over. A thin line of fresh red blood coated Roses' blade, he stared at the blade and then at the weeping girl in the corner of the room.

"Damn It!" He swore, "The bitch ran into the stroke!" Now he was out of the game and the girl was retrieved by one of the young ensigns who took her away to be tended to by the orderlies in the next room.

The young, brash Captain and the organiser of the game laughed and pointed to Rose, "Pay up your Grace, you lost the match, "He turned and looked at the other players, " I win by default!"

"Damn you Carstairs!" Rose swore, for not only had he lost the girl but also golden guineas to the subordinate. He hated losing, he hated Carstairs and now he hated the poor Indian serving girl. He seethed with impotent rage and he vowed that he would revenge himself upon the girl, for losing him the game.

"I shall send a man for the wager, your Grace!" With that final barb, he walked off, blade upon his shoulder to the other room to take possession of the girl. Carstairs enjoyed the skill of the blade and enjoyed the act of stealing away pretty young native girls from the fields and forcing them to be the fox in his game. He particularly enjoyed abusing the woman after the match. In the dawn hours, Carstairs' loyal Indian sergeant would take the girl back to the fields, and her parents and pay silver shillings for the use of the girl to her. For Carstairs, the second son of a minor noble family, it was the perfect existence. India was a land of opportunity, and the East India Company recruited the worst of men to command their forces here. The Company wished to milk the country for its riches and to hell with its people. Carstairs wanted nothing more than to accrue his fortune, use the beautiful women of this exotic country and then buy a plantation and continue his riotous living filling it with compliant beautiful women.

Once the girl had been attended to, and the cut cleaned, and bandaged she was frog-marched to Carstairs's room by his bull-like bearded sergeant who spoke to her in her native tongue, instructing her to obey the white officer and do whatever he wanted and he would collect her in the morning and return her to her family, with coins in a purse.

The abused girl whimpered and stumbled on her bare feet down the wooden floor of the officer's apartments above the Mess, her saree of dull crimson hastily put upon her whilst her injury was attended to. With a quiet but sharp knocking at the bedroom door, the sergeant, called Hassim pushed the girl through and then with a curt bow, closed the door and stood outside at attention.

"Do not be scared," Carstairs soothed, himself bare-chested dressing only his breeches and boots, "I will be gentle with you my beauty; if you are good to me?"

The girl looked at the white officer, blinked and then walked forward. As she walked towards him, she pulled her saree away and allowed her slender breasts to settle upon her chest, her nipples dark and inviting, "is this what the sahib wants?"

Carstairs smiled and unbuttoned his breeches, "Oh yes, my beauty, show me your black curls!" The dusky girl pulled open her pleats and dropped them, pooling on the floor. She looked down at her flat belly and rubbed her luxuriant pubic hair, pulled her right cunny lip open and gave the Englishman a glimpse of her sex, "Oh my beauty, you are truly magnificent!"

The woman pulled away the rest of her saree and then knelt before him took a gentle hold on his stiffening prick, and licked at his thick, swollen head. The officer shuddered in utter joy.

End of Chapter Six