The Lord of the House Ch. 04

Chapter 4 - Aspirations

Kriti wrapped the towel around herself and peeled off her swimsuit underneath. Tying another towel around her bound-up hair, she slipped on her sandals and padded to Raj's terrace. It was still quite early, she hadn't slept well. She could hear muffled sounds from the kitchen at the far wing but otherwise, the house was quiet. From the terrace, she could see that Raj was in a chair in his sitting room, reading on his tablet. He looked up and saw her, beckoned for her to come in. His expression changed from absorbed to attentive, concerned. He set aside the tablet.

She put up a hand. "I don't want to talk about it."

Dropping the towel, Kriti reached out and pulled the tie on his silk robe, undoing the fastening. He wasn't hard yet but getting there. After all, she was standing over him naked.

He rested a hand on her hip. "Oh, you're cold."

"Not for long," she replied. She straddled the armless chair that he preferred for reading--it allowed him to sit cross-legged when he wished. Raj encircled her with his arms, kissing her belly, stroking the small of her back. After a moment or two, though, she reached back and shifted one of his hands to her rump. He accepted the cue and cupped her, gently squeezing and caressing with his fingers. It helped banish the harshness of the night before.

"I thought about you while I was swimming," she murmured. "Feel how ready I am."

His hands paused. She could feel his breath against her stomach. Raj moved a hand down from behind and slipped his fingers gently along her, sampling. He groaned. Slowly, Kriti pushed him back in the chair, causing his hands to slide away. Keeping her eyes on his, she used one hand to angle him and lowered herself onto him just as slowly. It was excruciatingly good. She moaned in her throat. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she clung tightly, pressing herself hard against him, and rocked. He caught her rhythm and moved with her, slowly at first, then faster.

Yes, she was ready. But once again, Raj's gentle manner and the quality of his touch had pushed her further and she was already close. She tried to prolong it for him, but when he grasped the back of her head and urged her into a kiss, it became too much. Thrusting hard against him, she shuddered and moaned into his mouth. Her climax brought him along and they came together, clinging to each other. He kept kissing her throughout, and even when he fell back spent, he pulled her with him, the urgency turning sweet.

***

At breakfast, Kriti sat across from Sunil. They did not speak, had not spoken since the party, even when they had retired for the night after the Thakur released them both from his rooms. They shared the meal alone, in silence.

Kriti spent the day refreshing her knowledge of the steps necessary to certify the factory. It soothed her, and in the small hope that she would be allowed to take part, she would be ready.

The Thakur did not appear until tea. When he did, he looked especially pleased with himself. "Sunil, you were perfect last night." They all presumed that he was speaking of the party. "And Raj, I did not know you'd learned so much at your brother's knee. Even though it is not your area of study, well done. Many years from now, my legacy will be in good hands." He sipped tea and toyed with a small plate of food. "I received a call from Lowell and his advising attorney just now. It seems that even sober in the light of day, he believes his team would benefit from our bahu's assistance. What are your thoughts, Sunil?"

Kriti froze at the mention of her. She set her fork aside and kept her eyes on her plate. She felt rather than saw Sunil glance at her.

"Kriti's more than qualified. Why would we risk anything but the most excellent result in our certification?"

Kriti resisted the urge to close her eyes, overwhelmed with gratefulness. Sunil might not overtly help her, but he apparently wasn't interested in keeping her prisoner. He had cannily phrased the question as rhetorical.

"Well," the Thakur said with a sly tone, "Bahu has just begun to attend to all her duties in the household. Quite well, thus far but there will be greater demands. We wouldn't want that work to suffer either. What say you, Bahu?"

She suppressed her anger. She was becoming exceedingly good at that. "What is my husband's decision? My Thakur's? I am strong enough to serve the family in all ways. But if you doubt, my place is here first." She knew that the only way he would let her out was if he thought she didn't want out.

His eyes roved. "Raj, how many times has Bahu done her duty by you?"

Raj choked a little on his tea and glanced at Sunil.

"Do not look to your brother. He understands the requirements."

Swallowing hard, Raj answered (truthfully), "Seven times, maybe eight. I have not been more... inclined."

The Thakur nodded. "You will observe tonight."

Raj put both his hands on the table. Kriti silently prayed that he wouldn't protest.

Sunil said resignedly, without venom, "You must, Little Brother."

Jaw set, Raj kept quiet.

The Thakur seemed satisfied with mere acquiescence. "Sunil, you are excused this evening. I know you've not rested in days. We must not cause you illness. I will think until tomorrow on whether to lend Bahu to the certification team."

Kriti reflected on how many asanas would be required before dinner to allow her to report to the Thakur's room and not bite him until he bled.

***

In the faint hope that she might be allowed to go to work, Kriti spoke with Choti about appropriate clothing.

"There's nothing here that I can wear to the factory. How might we convince the Thakur?"

Choti pondered. "I think your husband might need to suggest that something different is important to the family prestige in this situation."

Kriti nodded. "At Atul, I always wore Western suits underneath a lab coat. The Thakur will never allow trousers, but maybe this--" She showed Choti a tailored, mid-calf Ted Baker skirt with a long-sleeved silk blouse. "With a dupatta that matches the blouse, and flats, it's the right combination of traditional and modern."

Choti seemed to consider her words for a moment, then nodded. "And it will hide that you aren't wearing underwear while allowing him access. Should he desire."

Suppressing a shudder, Kriti agreed. She collected the bookmarks for the items and texted them to Sunil with the note, "... to further the family reputation if I am taken to the factory."

Ten minutes later, Sunil replied, "Good thinking. I will suggest it." It was all he said.

***

Dinner was a quiet meal. Sunil was absent. Kriti suspected now that he was keeping an apartment, and a woman or women, somewhere near the factory, a place of solace when he could escape his father. It made her sad that this was still the way of their world. They could perhaps have been happy together were they not orbiting this black hole, being drawn in closer and closer to some sort of doom.

The Thakur stared even more than usual at Kriti as she ate, perhaps because Sunil was not there. "You are not eating well, Bahu," he admonished.

She deflected from her flattened appetite. "Knowing my mother and her mother, plump even as hard as they work, I must be careful, especially now that I'm less active."

The Thakur chuckled. "I approve of keeping this most excellent form." He leaned over his plate as though to close their distance down the large table. "Bear in mind that you're simply active in different ways that are excellent for your cardiovascular fitness."

Kriti nearly choked on her morsel but caught herself and swallowed carefully, following it with a sip of juice.

Raj entered the fray. "Father, I received my final grades today from last semester. I placed them on your desk."

"Honors?"

"Yes." Raj then went on to speak of several internship opportunities, all of them paid, with housing.

Kriti listened intently to Raj, pretending that she didn't see the Thakur continuing to leer at her as his son spoke. When Raj mentioned an internship in Boston, she smiled slightly at him, not wanting to over-signal her approval in front of the Thakur. She'd advocate for that position as hard as she could. She had contacts in the field there and was already writing his recommendation in her head.

After dinner, instead of retiring to the great room, the Thakur said, "I will be in my office for an hour. Be in my rooms at 8. Both of you. Bahu, call for Choti to attend you, you will be changing clothes."

Kriti went back to her rooms to do some yoga. She resisted the urge to cry, refusing to be a helpless maiden in need of rescue.

At precisely 8 p.m., Kriti and Raj stood before the Thakur, Choti behind them.

Wearing a rich silk robe as vermilion as his tilak, the Thakur paced slowly back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back, his half-smile satisfied. "My son, I have been light with you. You're a good boy. Perhaps too good, with too much of your mother in you. While Sunil is my successor, there is always a chance, however small, that he might be unable to take up the mantle when the time comes. Then, it would fall to you."

Raj watched his father apprehensively. "I will always contribute to, support, and grow this family, I will strive to reflect well upon it. I think you already know that."

"Yet, you lack the will to apply force as a necessary tool." The Thakur frowned at him. "In this age, in order to remain within the law, that force must be primarily spiritual, emotional to use a modern term. Sometimes monetary control is sufficient but not always. Lawyers may be liberally applied, of course. This is violence even if blood isn't spilled. Sunil understands the fundamental need for the threat of violence. I don't believe that you do."

Raj swallowed. "I grant that it isn't my strong suit. But I understand the concept."

The Thakur made a tutting noise. He gestured to Kriti. "This is a beautiful, accomplished, and deeply intelligent person, despite her attempts to hide the latter. And her anger." He turned to her. "Oh, I see it. I relish it. Of course, she does not wish to submit. While she grew up understanding obedience to her family and to her eventual husband's family, she would never have imagined serving three men with her body. It is much grander, much sweeter, to cause her to submit than to take from someone less able to resist." He glanced briefly at Choti. "It is a pleasure for me but it is more--it is practice, as it should be for you." He sighed. "You're young and gentle. I will not force you to be harsh with Bahu but you need to thicken your skin as the Westerners say. Go. Watch. I'll not embarrass you by keeping you in the room. But you'll learn to enjoy her submission or else there will be consequences."

He's teaching the kits to play with their food, Kriti thought. Trying anyway.

Raj kept his head bowed as he left the room. Kriti could see that the Thakur had become aroused during the exchange--coercing his own son to comply gave him pleasure. His filling cock pressed against the heavy fabric.

"Choti, the black gown. Take her in the other room to change."

Kriti found herself garbed in the Prada gown with the long fringes from upper thigh to ankle. The soft jersey of the simple top clung to her breasts. Solicitously, as though it mattered, Choti arranged her breasts so that they would be comfortably supported. It almost made Kriti laugh but her heart went out to the young woman's attempt. She squared her shoulders and returned to the bedroom to stand next to the timber.

"Good, you already know your place. But tonight, I have something different planned." He stepped close and drew her into a kiss.

Kriti had been practicing absenting part of herself when she found any touch repugnant, at the same time, staying sufficiently present to give the required responses. Unlike his sons, the Thakur was not good at kissing, he was too much of a taker for that. But she let him have his fill, let him think that this was effective foreplay. Some part of her understood that he was punishing Raj, parodying lovemaking. Unfortunately, doing so also took the Thakur's desire higher. His now full hardness pushed at her belly as he held her to him, he grasped one breast and thumbed it roughly. Reflexively, the nipple hardened. He made a savage noise in his throat. Breaking the kiss, he mouthed and bit down along her neck, not hard enough to mark the skin badly but hard enough to hurt. She stifled any sounds from the pain, not wanting to distress Raj.

The Thakur continued lower, biting along the open scoop of the dress, then pulling the stretchy fabric down to tuck under both breasts. He scraped his teeth along the soft flesh, threatening to bite, digging in a little. Kriti tried mightily not to flinch in fear. Suddenly, he stopped biting at her and hungrily sucked. The surprise took her off guard and a spike of pleasure shot through her. As his tongue flicked at her nipple, in distant horror, she felt wetness slide from her. Somehow, he knew. One hand went between her legs. He chuckled as he drew his fingers away, shining. "Isn't the pleasure better?" he asked her. "I don't mind taking you when you aren't interested. But to make your body a traitor to your mind, that's positively delicious."

It wasn't better, it was far worse. He now knew he could gain more control over her own body than she had.

He stepped away and she wobbled before she got her feet under her. "Choti, come here," he said.

Kriti could see that Choti was shaking. But the young woman did as he asked.

"Not to me, go to Bahu."

Both Choti and Kriti looked at him in shock.

"You heard me," he said, ominously. "Bahu, no." With that, he stopped Kriti from pulling up the top of the dress.

Choti stepped toward Kriti and stood waiting.

"The bahu will kiss the frightened girl, to reassure and soothe her."

Brow furrowed, Kriti stroked Choti's hair, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and then gently kissed her forehead.

The Thakur scoffed. "You aren't stupid, you know what I mean."

"I won't."

Folding his arms, the Thakur said, quietly, "If you do not, I will fuck her now. I've never fucked this one. She has a nice mouth, but I prefer experienced women. That could change tonight."

Kriti blanched. Still, she hesitated. She could feel Choti trembling under her hand.

Lazily, the Thakur said, "I might even plant a seed."

Choti stiffened. Kriti knew this must be an idle threat, he wouldn't risk his bloodline. But Choti didn't know that. He was torturing her not only with the threat of rape but of utter and enduring disgrace.

"You have the power to spare her."

Knowing that there was no guarantee the Thakur would abide his terms, nevertheless, Kriti wouldn't risk it. She heaved a big breath and steadied herself. Softly, she smoothed her fingers along Choti's jaw and tipped her head up. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. As her lips covered Choti's, she tried to kiss her as she had been kissed by Raj.

"Just so. More," breathed their tormentor.

Over and over, she kissed Choti, who gradually eased against her and relaxed. She wasn't precisely kissing back but she was pliant, her breath sped up, and finally, her arms came around Kriti and she clung to her. A tiny whimper emerged, so softly that Kriti hoped the Thakur didn't hear it.

"Touch the bahu's tits. And let me see."

Kriti continued lavishing kisses. Choti was responding now, naively, the tip of her tongue flicking against Kriti's. Choti backed away a little and with both hands, smoothed along Kriti's breasts, cupped them gently. It felt lovely. Kriti felt her own face flush at her inability to prevent the response.

"Suck them."

Both women made a noise of protest. Kriti looked up and saw the Thakur take out his cock. He gestured with it at Choti's backside.

"It's alright, Choti," Kriti said. "I... I don't mind." But she was unprepared for how it felt. Wetness flooded down her thighs. Without Raj's skill or Sunil's enthusiasm, Choti evoked new sensations. Kriti had never thought of being sexual with a woman. It occurred to her now that the natural sensibility was an advantage--a woman at least knows how not to touch another woman. Perhaps it was the absence of missteps, perhaps inherent knowledge. She had to stifle a moan.

The Thakur discerned it, growled a little in his throat. "That's it." He handled himself brazenly. "I want to hear you, though."

She realized that he had them arrayed such that Raj would have to see his father working his own cock. It disgusted her and yet the soft pulling of Choti's mouth was driving her wild. She stroked the young woman's hair, trying to communicate both her unwillingness and the pleasure. Silently, Choti hummed against her, acknowledging. She swirled her tongue and Kriti gasped. Choti repeated the movement and Kriti involuntarily pressed herself closer.

"Enough," the Thakur said. He let go of his cock but left it out to dominate the room. "Girl, you may go."

Choti fled.

The Thakur paced toward Kriti. Hands on her hips, he backed her toward the foot of his bed, keeping them sideways to the mirror. Once there, he shed his robe. Grabbing Kriti's thighs, he tipped her onto the bed and pressed her legs apart and back. He parted the skirt fringes back over her hips and stood there leisurely handling her most intimate places. After rubbing his hands all over, he dipped fingers within and reversed his hand so that his thumb could circle her clit. "You think that because I don't care about your pleasure, I don't know how to bring it." With the other hand, he pressed one thigh back harder against her belly, the one closest to the mirror.

She hated him with all her being. That helped keep the sensations at bay, but they were intense. This was about power. He truly didn't care about her pleasure. He cared about showing her that he could cause it even though she didn't want him anywhere near her. Using Choti as a proxy had been cruel. But it had worked. By priming her, he lowered her defenses, chinked her armor. Just because it felt good did not mean she would orgasm for him. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine someone else, even Sunil.

He pinched her thigh, hard. "No. You will look at me. This is me, no one else."

She opened her eyes. By focusing on his tilak, she could give him the illusion of eye contact. Fortunately, he was losing his patience for anything but his own gratification. He pulled her hips off the bed enough to fit himself to her and then he thrust as hard as he could, making her yelp.

"Does my massive cock hurt?" he mocked.

Massive in your dreams, she thought. "I'm fine," she said, clearly, not for him, but for Raj. He thrust again as hard as possible. She gathered her wits. The only way to shorten this would be to help him. She let her inner muscles flutter.

"Ahh. You protest the pleasure, yet you feel it," he crooned and smoothed into a regular rhythm which, although severe and designed to seat himself as deeply as possible, was an improvement over his initial treatment. She faked a little moan and squeezed her eyes shut as though in anguish at her slip. That sped him up. He was watching her breasts bounce with his thrusts. His hands gripped tightly on her buttocks. She squeezed harder inside. He grunted and kept on making enthusiastic noises. "The more you resist me, the better."

Feigning worse distress, she fisted her hands in the sheets and rippled her internal muscles hard. With a sharp cry, he poured himself into her, bucking.

She didn't have to fake the tears that ran down into the sheets.

***

Very early the next morning, she slipped out of the Thakur's bed, leaving him snoring, and returned to her rooms. Sunil was not there. She saw something laid out on the bed with a note on top. She wanted very badly to shower since she'd been fucked again in the middle of the night, at length, and felt sticky and disgusting. But curiosity won.