The Sacred Khandit

My name is Sean Draisey and my great-grandfather (who died in 1965) served with the 23rd Cheadles Infantry in the first world war.

During the war, he travelled with a small unit on a diplomatic mission through the Central India Tribal Belt, which stretches from Gujarat in the west up to Assam in the east across the states of Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand. He spent three months in that region with six other soldiers under the supervision of Sergeant 'Tiger' Adams, (who was later decorated with the George cross for bravery in 1919).

In September 2020, while going through his personal files in the family home in Kent, I found an old manilla unmarked envelope, and a handwritten essay obviously written by my great-grandfather during the war, which I'm reproducing in full below.

I make no claims to its factual authenticity regarding the events therein, but I can confirm that the people mentioned, and the times and places are all real and true.

Make of it what you will.

...........

Statement without prejudice

from Corporal G. Draisey

Madhya, India, Friday 16th June, 1917

I can scarcely believe what we saw last night, and have been unable to get it out my head all this day. I have no choice but to commit every event of that unholy, perverted ceremony to paper, though I'm sure anyone reading this will consider it a work of fiction. It matters not. I don't know who the girl was, but the events should be documented in case of future legal recourse.

I'm with the 23rd Cheadles in Madhya India on a diplomatic mission. We'd been camped in a clearing for three nights when Tiger Adams came to Harris and myself after lunch Tuesday afternoon. He asked if we wanted to visit one of the local tribes the next evening, as there was to be a special event in the large timber and mud hall which we'd seen two weeks before, and marvelled at the ingenious construction. The tribe who built the hall (which I won't name), were very friendly but not civilised in most ways we'd recognise back in Blighty. They wore animal skins and were primarily hunters and agriculturists. Harrison could communicate with them in a very small way, having studied languages at Oxford, but many of their customs we found alien, and I'm sure they thought the same with us.

On the morning of the event, we came across a tribe member carrying water about half a mile from our camp, and Harrison tried to question him about the evening's event. All we could get from the poor chap (he was quite old and struggling with his water barrel), were the three words 'young', girls' and 'white'. He did seem quite excited and chattered away, smiling and showing more gum than teeth.

Later, back at camp, Tiger took us to one side and said "look here chaps, we're relying on some of these native fellows to scout us through Pradesh, so make sure we make a good showing tonight. Don't upset them in any way, just enjoy their hospitality and make sure you look like you're enjoying it. I've heard some of these ceremonies can be pretty rum deals. Whatever happens, go along with it, English lives depend on us getting through Pradesh safely".

Just before nightfall, a tribesman came to our camp with another chap, who was the first white man I'd seen outside of our own company in three months. He wore a dirty linen suit and seemed a friendly enough sort. He introduced himself as Tucker Goodyear, and explained he was an interpreter from Kadesh, and wanted us to know that the ceremony that evening had taken on a new importance. He went on to explain that a white girl from Kadesh was going to 'perform', and whenever a none tribal woman took part in the 'sacred Khandit', it meant the ceremony had a much greater significance and power. According to Tucker, only three times in the history of the tribe had a white woman performed the sacred Khandit. (Whatever that was!)

I must say, Harrison and I were very intrigued at this point, and wondered what we were going to see at this 'Khandit'.

We arrived at the hall around three hours after nightfall, and the three of us, along with Tucker were directed to a long wooden bench near the back of the hall. Tucker had spent some time chatting to one of the tribesmen, and once we were seated he was able to shed some light on the ceremony.

"Two of the young women in the tribe haven't bore any children yet, and this ceremony, they believe, will make them fruitful. I haven't seen one of these ceremonies before, but I've heard they . . . shhhh! It's starting!"

There were at least a hundred tribes-people crammed in the hall, which was lit by flaming torches around the perimeter. There was a wooden stage area at the opposite side to the door, which was now closed and bolted. The stage was bare apart from two wooden poles in the center, about six feet apart. Tribal musicians were playing drums and long bamboo whistle type instruments in the corner, which made a quite distinct, almost Egyptian rapid rhythmic drone. We were given clay pots filled with something very alcoholic, and to the right of the raised stage were sat the obvious 'VIP' section of the tribe. The music was reaching a crescendo and it was obvious the ceremony was about to start.

Two very large tribal gentleman took to the stage and started chanting. Tucker whispered that they were summoning up spirits, and the ceremony wouldn't take place till they were in the presence of the gods. Another chap, which I took to be some kind holy man, started singing and the crowd started clapping, then were once again in silence.

The music changed to a less frantic, slow drumbeat and the two tribal gentlemen disappeared through a small door behind the stage. They were gone a minute or two, the re-appeared holding the arms of one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

I must say, I was shocked. She was quite petite, (but then even an average height girl would have looked small in comparison to those two adonis-like tribesmen), and she seemed to need help to walk. The tribesmen had an arm each and walked her towards the two wooden poles.

Her face was delicate and fine-featured and she had sandy, almost blonde hair, which was parted in the middle and reached a few inches past her shoulders. She wore a midnight blue two-piece with buttons and a simple white sash across her slim waste, and was barefoot. She appeared half asleep, and Harrison, on my left, whispered "she's beautiful, and drunk!"

Whatever state of inebriation she was in, (I've heard these tribes are very well informed about all kinds of hallucinogenic plants and natural intoxicants), she didn't seem distressed or in any way disturbed by the hall-full of foreign eyes watching her. She looked at them woozily and started moving her head to the rhythm of the drums.

When they reached the two poles, I was astonished to see the tribesman begin to tie her arms to each pole in a 'Y' shape, and leave her there. Why on earth would they do that? Then, two young tribal woman dressed in skins and shell and tooth ornaments took to the stage, and stood either side of her. It was all very strange indeed.

To my shock, one of the tribal girls removed the white sash, and started to unbutton the girl's blouse. My heart leapt as it suddenly dawned on me they may be undressing her!

My god!

I should say by this point my own experience with women hasn't been vast. I'm engaged to Mary back home and on one occasion she permitted me to touch her bare breasts with the lights off, but I'd never seen a woman completely naked apart from the pictures in the gentlemen's magazines in the barracks.

Yet here, in front of me and a hundred others, was a beautiful girl being undressed before my very eyes! And she didn't seem to mind!

Once the blouse was unbuttoned, the other tribe girl started unbuttoning her skirt, which fell to the floor exposing her shapely legs and her lacy white panties. The blouse was then quickly cut away from her with a sharp knife and she stood there in her lacy bra and panties and seemed to be smiling about it all! Though I must say, she had a body to be rightly proud of.

My member was stiff as one of those poles by this time and so was every other member in the room I should imagine. With the firelight flickering on her exposed flesh, and the music playing, it was certainly a very erotic and surreal scene.

She swayed between the poles for a while as the music played, then one of the tribe girls took up the knife again, and ran it over the girl's flat belly and under the front of her bra, between the cups. Then, with one quick move the bra was cut and the girl's glorious breasts were exposed for everyone to see! And she smiled again! and started moving her hips in circles. It was as if she wanted people to see her bare breasts!

But they were so beautiful. Perhaps average size, but shapely with large pink nipples, what a glorious sight!

The remains of her bra were cut away, and her legs were stretched open and tied to the poles by her ankles. The 'Y' had become an 'X'. Even from the back of the hall I could see a dark patch on her panties. My god, her cunny must have been dripping wet! My head span, how did this girl have no shame? No English girl would allow herself to be so exposed in front of so many eyes. And to let people see her arousal also!

Again, there was a few minutes pause, as if the time was allotted purely for the crowd to appreciate the girls breasts, and the predicament she was in, of being so close to being completely naked and exposed.

In time, the tribe girls returned, this time each had a knife and ran the tips of the knife up the girl's thighs and then each knife was inserted each side of her panties, the elastic stretched and held for a moment, and the girls seemed to gesture to each other, a few nods with the rhythm, and then. . .

One quick movement of the knives in unison and the panties fell to the floor and a cheer went up from the natives. And she threw her head back and laughed! She actually laughed!

She was grinding her hips now, and I couldn't move, I felt like any small touch of my trousers on my glans would have me ejaculating. I couldn't keep my eyes off her muff! A simply wonderful bush of hair, (darker than on her head), and between her legs I could see the faint suggestion of the lips of her pussy. I couldn't turn to face either of Harrison or Tucker for embarrassment! A gentleman would have walked out in respect of the lady's dignity. But I couldn't. And her shame was only just beginning.

After another few minutes 'viewing time', in which she seemed to be even more excited, breathing deeply with a red blush appearing on her chest above her beasts, the tribe girls returned to the stage. They held a clay pot each, which they dipped their hands in and started rubbing some sort of oily substance on their subject's arms. Them legs, then belly, and breasts! I couldn't believe I was seeing two girls touching another girl's breasts! Their dark hands contrasted with her pale skin and I have to admit it was unbelievably erotic. I could see her nipples hardening, and darkening, as the two girls rubbed the oil in. She was moaning now, throwing her head back, her breasts must have been quite sensitive. I thought of Mary, and how she let me touch her breasts with the lights off that night before I shipped out for India. Mary would never allow herself to be so exposed, or touched by another woman, and certainly would never let so many people hear her cries of passion.

The oil rubbing was obviously an important part of the ceremony, as it took about ten minutes and I noticed most of her body was oiled, but the girls didn't touch her sexual organs between her legs, just her pubic hair which was now glistening with oil..

Then, after another period of watching and waiting, (and how truly wonderful she looked with her limbs oiled in the firelight), the most extraordinary thing happened. A small wooden angled table with a cushion was bought on stage by the two gentleman, and our 'victim' was untied, laid on the table on her back, and the two girls took a pretty ankle each, and tied them once again to the poles much higher. Because of the angle of the table, we could still see her pretty face and breasts, but now her sexual organs were completely exposed as her legs were spread and tied. The 'X' had become a 'V'. She really had no ounce of dignity left, I could see all of her sex. Her cunny lips were open and I could see her wetness glistening in the firelight. My cheeks burned red in embarrassment, I could even see the completely exposed small puckered opening of her bumhole. A gentleman should never see such things! But I could stop myself from looking, and I'm ashamed to say, very much enjoying what I was seeing.

Despite the strange position, with her legs spread and tied so high, and her bottom hanging off the edge of the table, she looked quite comfortable. She certainly seemed to be in some kind of happy delirium.

Then, one of the tribe girls sat in front of the stage at a low angle, so we could still see all of our subject's body, and started rubbing her cunny with a quite large black heavily-polished wooden phallus. This was riveting to watch, as her hips bucked and she rubbed herself against it, her pubic hairs matted with that strange oil and her own juices. Then she spoke. I heard her say "oh god, yes"

She was English!

I turned to Harrison, and said "she's English!"

Harrison gave me such a look, and said "Shhh!"

Well, there was nothing to do. I felt like rescuing her, but I could hardly save her from something she seemed to be so obviously enjoying. And my orders were to watch and not get involved. But it felt so wrong, seeing one of our own being molested so. But still, I could not close my eyes, and my member was now stiffer than I think it'd ever been.

The phallus was now imbedded in her cunny, and I could plainly see her lips stretched round it, as she moved her hips to get more friction. She was moaning loudly now and I must say, she was uttering things I'd never heard a woman say before, she was growling and shouting "fuck me" and the tribes people were loving it. I can only think the stripping and the oiling had worked her up into such a demented state that she didn't care who watched her being pleasured with this large tool.

Her hands were free, and I watched in amazement as she pinched her own nipple with her left hand, and her right hand started rubbing her cunny just above the phallus. She was rubbing it with such speed and grunting now, louder and louder. Then, her hips left the bed and she screamed, literally screamed! And then started twitching in a most unusual manner. I'm familiar with orgasms through my own lonely bathroom shenanigans, but I didn't know it could happen to women, and with such intensity! The noise she made I can only describe as a shouted growling. I didn't know such sounds could come from a woman.

The ceremony then seemed to reach a kind of intermission, as an elderly tribal woman stood and sung and behind her, partially obscured by the singer, our subject was tended to by the tribal girls, who gave her drinks and wiped her down.

I whispered to Harrison "what on earth is going to happen next?" Harrison didn't answer, but looked quite pale. I'm afraid the experience was giving him not a small amount of stress.

Once the singing was over, our subject was again trussed up and exposed as before, her legs in a large V and her bottom cheeks spread with no shame. Sitting either side of her, the two tribe girls started applying some white foam from clay pots, with small brushes around her public area. Ah! She was to be shaved!

I must admit, I found this very erotic, as they carefully used sharp crude knives to scrape away the hair from around her cunny and her bumhole. It took about fifteen minutes, and when they'd finished, they washed away the foam and rubbed more oil over her pussy and bottom. Again, I started to hear moans as her hips started moving in response. The one girl started rubbing the same area that our subject had rubbed herself. It must be quite a sensitive area for a woman.

With one girl rubbing her cunny area, the other girl was rubbing her bumhole. I was completely transfixed! It was one thing seeing a woman touch another woman's sex organs, but now I was seeing one play with a bumhole! And she seemed to be enjoying it!

I could hear her talking again, between moans, and I was appalled to hear her say, (and it shames me to write this, but I'm committed to recording every detail), "up my bum! Up my bum!"

I turned to Harrison and whispered "she wants to be buggered!"

But of course, the natives wouldn't have known this, as they didn't understand English. But again, and the tribe girl's nimble fingers caressed the outside of her bumhole, our newly shaved victim said "up my bum, oh god, please!"

I turned to Tucker on my right, and may god forgive me, I said to him, "Tell them, she wants something up her bum!"

Tucker looked at me at first confused, then he understood. He set his jaw and after a few seconds, shouted something towards the stage, and the tribe girls looked directly at him, then started talking to each other, still massaging whilst talking.

Then, the girl on the left seemed to talk to one of the gentleman who handed her another phallus. Smaller that the previous one, and my head began to spin, what had I done? As a direct result of my interference, this English rose was going to be defiled by these primitives. And I wanted to see it! I wanted it to happen!

With one girl still massaging her cunny, the other started rubbing the phallus around the puckered hole our subject's bottom, and I could actually see the muscles of her anus flex and relax in anticipation, how disgusting! But I my heart was beating out my chest watching this perversion. Shame on her, and shame on me!

And I could hear her saying "oh yes, yes please, show them, I want them all to see it go inside. Make sure they can see, I want them to know I like it"

My god! Now she knew there were English speakers in the room, she was talking loudly on purpose so we could hear! Obviously to the tribe it was gibberish. But the four of us understood every word, and she wanted us to hear, the poor, shameless girl.

The phallus entered her bumhole and slid in remarkably easy. I didn't know you could do such a thing, I watched transfixed.

"Ah yes, YES! Oooh, look at me. Look at me with a dildo up my arse you fucking savages.. . . "

Now I could hear her accent. North of London, Hertfordshire perhaps, and obviously educated. My god, she could be anyone's daughter or niece, probably someone of importance. What was she doing here, being debased so?

"Now rub my man, rub my little man and make me come, I want everyone to see me come again" she said, and I though perhaps she was going to be once again caught up in that mad delirium, but suddenly the elder of the tribe banged a large ornamental pole on the floor and the two tribe girls looked in his direction, then at each other, and the phallus was slowly removed, (prompting a loud "oooh" from our subject). Then, they stood up and walked to the left side of the stage. What on earth was happening now?

One of the large gentlemen walked in front of our bench carrying some kind of funnel made of a leather-like material, and a large clay pot. He stopped by Tucker and dipped the pot in a large barrel. He then walked to the front of the stage and stood in front of our subject who was still trussed up with her legs spread, and our view was obscured and looked to be working with the funnel, and pouring something into it. At the same time, two tribe girls on the right started to get undressed. They stripped off completely and had very pretty, hard young bodies with long hard dark nipples crowning their small firm breasts. They had boyish hips and dark mounds of pubic hair that started in very small hairy trails below their belly-buttons. I thought they were incredibly attractive.