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She reached nervously for a cube of ice and placed it between her lips with considerable apprehension, still not sure how to proceed and too fearful of risking clarity by asking a question. But then Bai-Ma felt her Lady's hands rest gently on her head, pulling her forward between her thighs. With the ice in her mouth, she leaned forward and placed her lips on her mistress' vagina, holding steady for a while during which she used her tongue to push the cube against Madame's inner lips and the gap between them. She felt the grip over her head tighten as she began to move her face in tiny circles, steering the melting ice over the fiery red petals.
"Ah!" Lady Gayatri took a sharp intake of breath as she felt the chill against her feverish cunt, her muscles tensing against her maid's touch. She felt the sharp bite of the ice as well as the warm softness of Devyani's lips on the sensitive folds of skin that protected her vagina. The icy cube was held at the entrance of her cunt as her maid kept her lips around it, gently cooling the raging fire that seemed to have flared from the pits of her womb. Her fingers clawed into the handmaid's hair and scalp; her thighs parted even wider as she lifted her buttocks and pushed her crotch against Devyani's face.
It took about a minute for the ice cube to melt almost completely, now just a tiny bead in Bai-Ma's mouth and any pretence of a post-shave hydration quickly disappearing. She knew her mistress was highly aroused and while she didn't mind providing a cunnilingual experience to Madame, she did not feel any sexual awakening herself. Nor did she feel compelled or obligated to do so; she was perfectly at ease giving her Lady this form of sexual pleasure.
But Lady Gayatri abruptly seemed to return to her senses. She made no sudden moves, just removed her hands from her handmaiden's head and slowly lowered her feet to the ground as Devyani pushed her stool backwards. Picking up the hand-towel and water bowl, the maid went quickly to the wash basin before returning to collect all the other items. She spent a few minutes cleaning the bowl and then put everything into a black polyethylene bag which she would take with her and replace while tidying up the bathroom later. She folded the sheet which was lying on the floor, careful not to let any stray tufts or strands of hair flit away, and put that into the plastic bag as well.
Bai-Ma was used to quick changes in her mistress' mood and wasn't unduly perturbed at the swift transformation in her demeanour. She herself made the adjustment from intimate confidante to professional companion and was ready to leave the Lady to her own privacy in under a minute. As she headed to the door, plastic bag in hand, her lady had stood up and turned away towards the bay window in the bathroom, not wishing to lock eyes with her servant. Bai-Ma understood as she shut the door quietly behind her.
***
Four days earlier, Xavier had caught a bus at 5 o'clock in the morning, having left home at 4:00 am after calling for an Uber driver to take him to the bus terminus. His little hometown in the Himalayan foothills was six hours away by the "express bus" and he had texted a cousin of his to pick him up on his motorcycle from the depot. He got home, army surplus duffel bag slung over one shoulder, a few minutes before noon and was surprised to find a swarm of uncles, aunts and more cousins waiting for him. Being the first to leave the small town and venture forth into the big city world, that too as a college-going boy, he was a bit of a celebrity in the overgrown village.
He spent the next week relaxing most of the time, although he maintained his early morning routine of running and exercising. One afternoon, his old school friend Neela came visiting along with her parents when, at one stage, Xavier was talking about his college and the estate he lived on when she abruptly asked "Is she beautiful?"
"Is who beautiful?"
"Your landlady. The owner of the estate you live on. Is she good looking?" she persisted.
He made a non-committal response to that but mentioned that her name was Gayatri Laxmi and some people actually called her Rani Sahiba, meaning Queen Lady.
Neela stared at him and said "Juju! Are you serious?" Everybody in his group of friends and all their parents and relatives called him JuJu because as a toddler, that's what Xavier called himself, unable to pronounce his own name.
"What?" he exclaimed, startled at her abruptness.
"You don't know who she is?"
"No. Why? Should I?" Xavier asked in confusion.
Neela realised that he actually had no idea. She said "I think I'll let Mummy tell you."
Turning towards both their mothers who were deep in conversation, Neela exclaimed "Aunty! Mummy! You'll never believe this. Ask JuJu the name of his landlady," Neela said while her Dad was pouring a drink for Xavier.
When the women had quizzed him about the lady of the manor, her name, where the mansion was located, was it modern or ancient, did she have lots of servants, were there many visitors, did she travel frequently, did she go overseas, and a host of other questions.... he had answered all the questions to the best of his knowledge and ability, and then Neela's Mum finally explained.
"My mother used to tell me that our little village, which has grown considerably since you both were born, was once a part of a large kingdom. We were one of maybe 500 villages and small towns that made up a state that stretched from these foothills in the north to the tributary of the Holy Ganges river 280 kms to the south and almost 350 kms to the East along the Shivalik mountain range. I still remember my mother told me that when she was a small girl, the Maharaja had come to our village one day. There was a lot of celebration and cheering when many soldiers and horses and I think maybe some elephants also came. My grandfather was the village headman and he sat with the Maharaja for a long time that day but all the children were told not go near the great man and not to make any noise.
"But then during our country's independence, and after that, everything changed. The government took over most of the land and the properties but still they left much with the old feudal lords and kings."
Xavier sat with his drink, listening with rapt attention and fascination to Neela's mother as she narrated what she knew of the village history, embellished perhaps where her memory failed her or when untenable gaps in the story appeared.
"Our Maharaja and his family were very good people. When I was in school, slightly younger than you two, the old Maharaja's son came here along with his daughter. They were not king or princess any more but they still owned a lot of land in this area and we all called him Raja Sahib. He gave many people in this village and in the neighbouring villages small plots of land, and he donated money to the school and the hospital nearby. And his daughter who was younger than us spent time talking to us and asking questions about our life in the village. Very good people."
As the lady continued her chronicle of events, her husband, Neela's father, poured another round of rum into the three empty glasses and passed the container of ice cubes and the steel water jug around.
"And then, many years later, I don't know where you children were, maybe in school, the lady came to visit again. The late Maharaja's granddaughter, you know? Very beautiful and very smart. She had studied in England, and came in a big fancy car with some people from the city in more cars. They all wore business suits and talked in English. I think they were lawyers and accountants maybe. They were staying in the town nearby where there is a hotel but they came here two or three times in one week. They were selling many properties to local businessmen and rich farmers.
"And you know who the lady was? JuJu? You know who?"
Xavier sat silently, glass poised inches away from his lips, waiting for Neela's mother to continue.
"Her name was Maharani Gayatri Laxmi!"
He should have been prepared for that, given how attentively he had listened to the narrative, but it still caught Xavier by surprise. He gawked soundlessly in amazement, took a gulp of his rum, and then settled backwards into the couch he was seated on. The conversation around him started up in a while but he wasn't listening to the families' gaggle; he had withdrawn into himself while he absorbed the information.
Three days later, he resolved it was time to head back to the city. Despite protestations from his folks at home, Xavier left early in the morning just after daybreak. He had decided to take his old Royal Enfield motorcycle back to the city and hoped to make it in under four hours. His duffel bag was strapped on to the back of the seat and he was well clad and protected from the cold. He hugged his parents, reverentially touched their feet, donned his crash helmet and left at exactly 6 o'clock.
As the deep thumping bass sound of the exhaust with its stock cylinder accompanied him on the journey, he was thinking of The Lady. She was a good woman; always well dressed, spoke fluently in English, French and Hindi, was invariably polite with her staff, had a commanding but compassionate presence, had elegance and poise, and was known to be often generous to a fault. He was picturing her and her regal beauty, her fair skin, the rare but charming smile, her well coiffed hairdo, the Indian and western dresses that he had espied her in, and the soft dulcet tones of her voice when she had spoken to him. Despite her grandeur and his slight feeling of intimidation, Xavier still had happy thoughts about Lady Gayatri.
***
Xavier made one stop on the highway back to the city for a coffee and some gas for his bike. As he continued his journey and got closer to his destination, his thoughts shifted to college and the coming week that would decide his future on the track & field team. He reached the estate at 10:15 a.m., feeling pleased with his timing. Switching off his machine outside the back gate, he wheeled it to the outhouse just thirty yards inside; he would follow that practice every time he entered or existed the premises so as not to let the sound of his motorcycle disturb anyone.
The next three days were physically and mentally gruelling for Xavier; he reached the college every day at 6:00 am when daylight was just breaking. He tried out for a variety of categories in the first two days; he ran heats for the longer distance 5,000 and 10,000 metres, he tried out for the 4x100 and the 4x400 metres relay both as anchor as well as start positions. His coach wanted him to try for the 100 m. sprint but he gave that up in favour of the 110 m. hurdles. They competed through the days, although they were given sufficient breaks and time to rest between races so they could attain peak performance in each of the events. They also had more than one opportunity to run their races, with different group formations and different track positions.
Each night, he got back around 8 o'clock and crashed into his bed exhausted after a frugal dinner. He was glad he had brought his bike with him since he no longer had to depend on other peoples' timings and convenience to get a lift home. On Friday night, he lay in bed trying to assess how he had performed and came to the conclusion that he had more than an 80% chance of being selected.
The other thing that had him intrigued was the small white envelope on his centre table when he got back that evening. It was about 5"x4", made of thick bond paper, and had the letter "G" embossed white-on-white in the top left corner. On the card inside, hand written, were the words "Best of luck on Saturday, Xavier. Come and join me for a glass of wine as soon as you return home tomorrow evening. Come straight to the house irrespective of the time." It was signed "G" with a bit of a flourish, and seemed more of a command than an invitation to him.
The next day Xavier was at the tracks a little earlier than usual and used the time to loosen up and calm his nerves. Before switching off his phone at 7:00 am as required by all athletes, he received a short text message from Bai-Ma wishing him luck. He thought adoringly of his lover and drew inspiration from her message, wanting so much for her to return and share whatever he would feel at the end of the day - either ecstatic joy or abysmal dismay.
But the way things turned out, Xavier was ecstatic on Saturday night. There was a huge event at the college auditorium, attended by myriad dignitaries including a couple of his professors. Throngs of students came for the occasion despite the fact that their holidays were still ongoing; there were girls and boys, friends and family of contestants not just in track & field but also in swimming, hockey and the ever popular cricket. Mid-way through the evening, the athletics team was announced and Xavier, amongst six others, went on to the stage amidst raucous applause to receive his team blazer and colours as one of the half-dozen new additions to the college team.
He didn't wait for the rest of the ceremony and the gala dinner that followed; instead he snuck out of the hall and took a back exit to the parking lot without alerting any of his friends. He sent a quick text message to Bai-Ma telling her he had made it to the team, and then kick-started his 350 cc Royal Enfield Classic. He had taken off his leather jacket and stuffed it between his legs at the crotch, donning instead his new blazer with the college athletics team badge over the left breast pocket. In less than 20 minutes, he took the corner on to the stretch of road that ran on one side of Lady Gayatri's estate, turned off the engine and coasted silently till he stopped at the side entrance gate.
Wheeling his bike inside, he parked it in front of the entrance to his outhouse and started walking immediately to her mansion as promised. It was already 9:15 pm and he was looking forward to meeting Lady G who he assumed would have finished her dinner by then. He briefly wondered why he was so keen to see her but concluded that he just wanted, in fact needed, to share his euphoric state with someone he knew and felt relatively close to. When he reached the portico, his nervousness seemed to return; his knees felt weak as he pushed open the heavy doors and walked to the circular staircase which he began to ascend apprehensively.
The chandelier in the lobby downstairs was still lit but a rheostat had obviously been used to dim the luminescence. With one hand on the solid wooden bannister, he climbed the carpeted stairs and walked down the corridor. When he placed his hand on the brass door handle at the entrance to the library, Xavier paused for a moment and sucked in a deep breath before knocking and tentatively pushing the door open. There was a table lamp on the writing desk that cast a golden hue across the room but the library was silent and there was no Lady G. Xavier wondered if perhaps it had become too late and Rani Sahiba had possibly retired for the night; he looked at his wristwatch again and saw that it wasn't yet 9:30. Should he just go back to his room? But he remembered that the Lady had insisted he visit irrespective of what time he got back from college.
In a state of nervous confusion, Xavier pulled the door shut and stood for a few seconds in the silent corridor that lined the rooms on his right and overlooked the vast lobby on the ground floor to his left. With one hand on the balustrade, he silently glided along the passageway till he reached another door on his right; he found it was locked when he tried to twist the doorknob. Even more tremulous now, he bravely continued till he reached one end of the aisle and another door at the corner where the corridor made a sharp turn to the left. He rapped his knuckles on the heavy wood and placed his hand on the door handle.
"Come in!" he heard Lady Gayatri's unmistakable voice and accent filter through as he pushed the door inwards.
"Good evening, Ma'am," Xavier said as soon as he entered, "I'm sorry it's so late but I came away from college as soon as the results were out."
"No! No! Come inside, Xavier, and let me look at you," the lady exclaimed. She had been sitting on a leather recliner similar to the one in the library with a table lamp lit beside her.
Xavier walked into the room and saw a large stately bed on one side, a comfortable sofa set in another corner where the lady was, wide and tall glass sliding doors which he assumed led to another balcony, and a door that presumably accessed her toilette and dressing areas.
"Congratulations! Xavier," Lady Gayatri almost screamed uncharacteristically as she stood up from her chair, "You're wearing the college team blazer!"
"Thank you, Ma'am. Yes, I managed to make it through," he said, feeling deservedly proud as he stood before her with the athletics team logo and motto emblazoned in golden threads on his badge.
She walked up to him, beaming as she read "Floreat qui laborat" on his breast pocket under the team insignia. Xavier saw her hands extending towards him and he was about to raise his own, expecting her to shake hands, when she took his face between her palms and placed her lips on his mouth. After a brief kiss, she again said "Congratulations!"
Xavier was still trying to absorb the fact that he was in the Lady's bedroom, her private chambers, and then the kiss left him completely stunned. He stood riveted to the spot he was on when he heard her say "Come Xavier, we must celebrate," and saw her go to an antique looking sideboard. There was an open bottle of wine on the top but she pulled open the doors to reveal a wide array of bottles inside. She looked up at him and beckoned for Xavier to join her at the bar cabinet.
"We must have something stronger than wine. What would you like?" the lady asked him. Xavier walked slowly, still recovering, and bent over to peer at the assortment of labels on bottles in myriad different colours. He didn't know enough about wines and spirits to select anything from the luxurious spread in front of him so he just looked on.
"Whatever pleases you, Ma'am. I'm so happy, I can drink anything," he said, hoping to add a little levity to shroud his embarrassment.
"OK!" she said, reaching out for a three-fourths full bottle of what looked like scotch to him. When she placed it on top and asked him to pour drinks for both of them, he read the label which said "Highland Park" and in smaller print, "Aged 30 Years." He kept a straight face as he poured, knowing from his hobnobbing with the bartender where his band played on weekends, that this was a $2000 bottle of the finest single malt. He decided he was going to sit back and enjoy it in the company of his Rani Sahiba; he deserved it, he thought as he carried two heavy crystal tumblers with the golden ambrosia back to where the lady had taken her seat again.
He sat opposite her, raised his glass to the lady, and took a sip of the whiskey delighting in its caramel and smoky flavour notes. Lady G still had a happy smile on her face as she said "I'm absolutely thrilled that you did what you set out to do, and too in your first year. Truly a splendid achievement, Xavier."
"Thank you, Ma'am. Not just for your compliments but for everything; for allowing me to stay at your estate and making it easier for me to concentrate on my sport and my studies, for providing me with house-keeping services, for your concern and care. Thank you for everything," Xavier said, feeling emotional all of a sudden. He was truly grateful for Lady Gayatri's largesse and the nurturing atmosphere that her world provided for him. He had never thanked her enough and it struck him at that moment that his accomplishment may not have been possible without her magnanimity.
