tagNonConsent/ReluctanceSheeja's Carnal Resurrection Ch. 02

Sheeja's Carnal Resurrection Ch. 02


Part 2 – Idle Mind and A Devil's Workshop.

The People


Denny was a small time businessman, trading in commodities but having a parallel stream of income from money-lending against gold or jewellery. These were given to ordinary semi-literate folk, overawed at the idea of approaching full fledged financial institutions. The rate of interest charged however, was exorbitant. Apart from a lucrative source of untaxed income (all transactions were in cash), it also provided him some fringe benefits by way of minor sexual favours from female clients who couldn't meet the deadline for interest instalments.

On one unforgettable occasion, he managed to coerce a rustic woman, Sheeja, into having sexual intercourse with his dandified crony Wilson. The episode was memorable for both Wilson and the sexually naïve (despite being married) Sheeja. The incident also proved to be a turning point in Sheeja's life as she started meeting Wilson occasionally, to have sex.

Wilson turned up at Denny's office one day, around noon.

'Den, I have an idea for a new channel of business. It's completely different from your current line,' he said.

'You know Wil, this certainly is a coincidence. I have been thinking about expanding my business, maybe venturing into new areas,' replied Denny.

'Look why don't we go out, have a couple of beers and talk this over lunch?' Wilson suggested.

Over chilled beer and a delicious ethnic lunch of fish curry and rice, Wilson explained the nucleus of an idea sprouting in his head. The plan was to send Sheeja to train as a beautician. Once she finished training, a beauty parlour could be set up in an upmarket locality in town. Women in their part of the world, were coming out of their traditional way of life, wanting to improve their appearance and look more fashionable. The explosion of cable television and new-age films showing well groomed starlets in sexy attire, was having a major impact on the female audience. They discussed the new idea for sometime and decided to send Sheeja immediately for training, as a start.

Within a year a new beauty parlour opened up in one of the posh residential localities in town. The opening was conducted with a lot of fanfare and a popular cine starlet was flown in for the inauguration. Denny and Wilson remained in the background leaving Sheeja, who had transformed from a drab rustic woman into a competent, smart beautician with a natural flair for the work, to run the operation. Her drunken husband was by then in awe of this sophisticated (by his standards) creature who had suddenly undergone a bewildering metamorphosis to become a colourful butterfly from a mere caterpillar and who was bringing in more money than he could ever dream of. She had stopped this disgusting husband of hers from approaching her physically, getting her sexual appetite amply satisfied by Wilson. In a short span of six months, 'Soft Skin' became one of the most popular beauty parlours in the city.

The Plot


Denny was quite happy with the way things were going but as always he was scheming up ways to make even more money. During one of his meetings with Wilson, he brought up a thoroughly unscrupulous idea to make a lot of money.

'I have a new scheme to expand our business and hit the jackpot,' he told Wilson. 'But', he continued, 'it has a fair element of risk and involves getting Sheeja to play a crucial part.'

'That shouldn't be a problem. She eats out of my hand these days,' Wilson winked confidently.

'Eats out of something else I would say,' said Denny vulgarly. 'And quite often too.'

'Anyway, back to business Willy. I am thinking of including some specialized services for a very select, well-heeled clientele.'

Wilson was confused. 'But we are already catering to well off women. We even have a few socialites among our customers. Are you thinking of opening another branch?' he wanted to know.

'That can come later. No, I am thinking of another very, very special line. There are a few extremely rich businessmen who are on the lookout for sex but with very discreet, 'non professional' ladies.'

'But that's getting into the brothel business,' protested Wilson.

'Listen to me carefully, my friend, without interrupting. My idea is to use each woman in an exclusive – that is, only once and, only for a single sex session with a client. This will provide a small, carefully chosen clientele, a unique classy service of exceptional variety.'

Denny was a member of several exclusive clubs and had close connections with immensely rich businessman.

Wilson was astounded and could not resist interrupting.

'But how will you manage to have a constant supply of such women?' he stammered.

'Ah! There, my dear friend, you come to the nub of the scheme. Our talent pool of one timers will be married women from the middle class,' remarked Denny calmly. 'That way we get the services free.'

'How will you get such ladies for the purpose,' gasped Wilson.

'That's where our beauty parlour customers will come in. We will have an annexe where special beauty treatments would be done. I am planning to take the building behind the existing parlour on rent as well. That building faces a small side street. I will put the board of my business there, ostensibly a branch office, for our male clients to come in. That is the easy part. The difficult part is to get a lady willing to have sex with the client. For that, we will have to use a bit of treachery. Sheeja plays a vital role in that part of the operation,' he stated with a sinister chuckle.

As Denny elaborated his plan further, Wilson felt a chill down his spine. This was playing with fire. There had been a hue and cry of late when several sex scandals had been unearthed, some of them involving powerful politicians. If there was ever a fuss, he could imagine the dire consequences. At the same time he couldn't but admire his friend's ruthless ingenuity. The potential rewards were enormous.

Sheeja was to assess customers visiting the beauty parlour. After finding out their background, she was to identify potential victims. The focus would be on fairly attractive women in their late twenties to the mid-thirties, married, preferably childless, husbands away, preferably out of the city or country. The more high profile and influential ones would be weeded out.

From normal beauty parlour small talk, the conversation would be skilfully turned to slightly risqué territory like film gossip, local sex scandals and such other seamy subjects. The degree of interest shown in this kind of talk would determine the rating of a potential victim – higher the interest, higher the rating.

Next, Sheeja would have to set about cultivating the customer, making her feel privileged in subtle ways. In a matter of a few weeks she would suggest a session of specialized beauty treatment in the annexe. Once the woman came in for the specialized treatment, she would be given a welcome herbal drink which would contain a pinch of 'Andruku'. This was a little known herbal concoction produced in the Arhangay province of Myanmar which had miraculous properties of inducing high libido in women for a few hours with just a pinch. But since it was extremely deleterious to health if used regularly (would impair the kidneys), it was banned in most countries. Denny, with his trading contacts would get this smuggled into the country.

The woman would start feeling the effects of the potion very soon. At this point, Sheeja could start the treatment, which would be in the nude. The woman would be told that this was essential to be truly effective. Once in the nude, vibrators and other stimulators would start being used to excite the victim further. A hidden movie camera would surreptitiously film this nude session. A massage and wash would round off the so called treatment. They would then wait to see if these selected victims would again come for the special treatment.

Those who asked for a second session, would be noted carefully with some kind of discreet check on their background. The second session beginning with the drink, would involve more intimate things like a finger masturbation given by Sheeja and would also be filmed. This stage would be set for the tricky phase of the plan that of coercing the woman to have sex. The woman would be threatened with exposure of the nude pictures and coaxed into submission.

The final stage would then begin. It was agreed by both Denny and his friend that the sex sessions should only be during the day, which they felt was safer, preferably between 9 and 5. The fee planned to be charged was two hundred thousand Rupees (close to 5000 US Dollars) per session. The Annexe would have a suite, luxuriously furnished with all comforts fit for the exceptionally wealthy. Denny would then carefully select his list of potential customers and begin activation.. The woman victim would be asked to arrive in the morning around 9 to await the male client and the session could start with a deadline of 5 pm. Food and drinks would be provided on demand.

Six months later the plan was put to operation.

The Sting -- The Devil's Workshop


(Sameera Ali's narrative)

I have always considered myself a very average person. A woman with averagely good looks, slightly plump with a fair (for an Indian) complexion. Born of a respectable, middle class Muslim family, I had a comfortable upbringing and a moderately good education. I took a degree in liberal arts and toyed with the idea of working but my family had other plans. I was married off to a well off man working in the Middle East.

My husband was a quiet person, conservative and serious. He did not take me to the Gulf since he did not have a family permit. He would however come on leave once in two years for a couple of months. I did not like the idea of staying with my in-laws in their small village so we took a small flat on rent in the city. By the time I was thirty, being childless, I had got used to living alone most of the time and managed to have a small circle of friends. My earlier ideas of working fizzled out as I had grown quite lazy. I enjoyed the easy going pace of late mornings, eating when I felt like, shopping, watching movies at the theatre often, TV programmes and regular kitty parties with my friends. In short, an idyllic life though slightly dull.

The bombshell dropped shortly before my thirtieth birthday shattering the routine monotony. A swanky beauty parlour had opened up in our part of town recently. I tried the place and found the service and quality good. It was run by a very pleasant woman called Sheeja. She had another side to her which I discovered too late.

After I had been using the place for a couple of months, Sheeja invited me to try a new beauty treatment and massage next door in their annexe. On entering the place, which was superbly equipped and furnished, she gave me a welcome herbal drink, which she said was good for the skin. The drink seemed a trifle insipid but I found a glow spreading inside me. She started the massage and treatment using tiny special vibrators. It was delightful and I had never felt more sexually aroused in my life earlier. She continued the treatment, slowly taking off my salwar and undergarments which she explained was necessary. It was a lovely treatment and I emerged from the parlour, glowing and the juices flowing. Sheeja cautioned me to be discreet about this since she wanted to only invite privileged customers for this special treatment. I was flattered that she considered me one.

The following week I telephoned Sheeja and fixed up another such treatment. I was again given the herbal drink which set my senses afire. I had to undress completely before Sheeja started. She was a superb in her work and towards the end I was surprised to find her fingers caressing and massaging my pubic region before sliding into my vagina. However the pleasure was such that I did not protest. In fact I enjoyed the masturbation thoroughly. When I got back home however, I was wondering whether it was right and safe. 'Anyway this is the last such special treatment,' I thought.

A week later, I received a small package by messenger. Wondering who it was from and what it contained, I opened it to find a video CD and a note from Sheeja. It asked me to view the CD and then telephone her. As I put the CD into the player and started playing it, my knees began to wobble and the ceiling appeared to spin. The damn woman had filmed my special beauty treatment sessions. I watched in horror as my naked body shamelessly writhed in pleasure to the buzz of vibrators and the finger masturbation. The treacherous woman had even recorded my voice.

I sat and thought for a while wondering what the payoff would be. Finally with no way out, I called her. She was sweet and syrupy. The secret was safe, they didn't want any money blah blah. I cut her short and asked what she wanted. Her tone hardened and she bluntly came to the point. They (she and her partners) wanted me to go to the Annexe and entertain an important male client (she stressed the word important) the next day. I was to go, dressed attractively, in the morning and remain till around 5 pm. She kept promising that this was just a one time favour they wanted.

I was stunned by this demand of hers. On the verge of tears, I begged her not to do this but she refused to listen to my entreaties. She seemed to take a vicarious delight in the situation. (Much later I learnt that she was also a married woman, blackmailed into sex and then revelling in it, she joined the people who had ensnared her . She probably felt a perverse thrill in degrading another woman down to her fallen level.)

As I continued with my protests, she threatened to expose the film to the tabloids and sleaze websites. I had to finally agree. She kept repeating that this was a one time demand, and in assurance, mentioned that they need not give such a promise if they didn't intend keeping it, with the power they had over me. She advised me to take a sleeping pill when I went to bed at night as they wanted me to feel fresh in the morning. She also warned me against taking any birth control medicine because the herbal drink would react negatively and cause bleeding in the uterus.

I took stock of the situation but could see no escape. My reactions were those of horror, panic and guilt. When I went in for a bath in the evening, I looked at my nude body critically in the mirror. Looking back at me was a moderately attractive woman with full, firm breasts and a slightly heavy waist. A clean picture untouched by any depravity whatsoever. I cursed myself again and again for allowing my lazy mind and body to fall prey to that She-Devil. The promise of a one time demand was the only thing that seemed genuine and I tried to comfort myself with this small crumb. Finally at night, I took a sleeping pill as ordered.

The next morning, I turned up with much trepidation at the Annexe or the Devil's Workshop as I had by then begun to call it mentally. Sheeja whisked me inside and ushered me into a room where I hadn't been before. It was a luxuriously appointed bedroom with a king sized bed and was right out of the movies. She quickly explained in very blunt terms that I had to sexually entertain the person she had mentioned about earlier and that any non co-operation on my part would lead to extreme reprisals. She pointed to a glass on a bedside table which contained the accursed herbal drink, which I refused. She gave a knowing smirk and asked me to suit myself and stepped out to welcome their guest. I could hardly breathe out of fear.

The door opened abruptly and in walked a flashily dressed man. In his late forties probably, he was dark skinned and rather heavily built, a slightly pock marked fleshy face with coarse features. He had 'nouveau riche' written all over, with his heavy gold bracelet, Rolex watch and silk shirt. Though probably greying, he had dyed his hair jet black. Much later I learnt that he was a prominent sea-food exporter. I could get the whiff of expensive after-shave mingling with smell of cigarette. He was the epitome of the type I despised and ridiculed in private with my friends.

He didn't waste much time over pleasantries and after seeking my name in his rasping voice, moved swiftly into action. He enfolded me in a suffocating embrace and crushed his abrasive black lips on mine. I felt nauseated with the stink of cigarette, which I have always detested. I quickly made up my mind. If there was anyway I was going to survive the next few hours without becoming a mental wreck, I had to have that damned drink. I somehow managed to tell him that I needed the drink. He thought it was milk since the drink had a milky appearance. While he waited impatiently, I drained the glass. Sure enough as soon as the last drop went down my throat, I felt a warm glow over my breasts and pubis.

He wasted no time as he started kissing me hard again, his rough tongue opening my lips and entwining with mine, caressing my teeth, going to every corner of my mouth, his saliva mingling with mine. I had misjudged him. He certainly knew his business, in his own rather uncultured way with probably plenty of experience in pleasuring women. After kissing me for a length of time, he started to unbutton my blouse, at the same time taking off his shirt and then his trousers. Though throbbing with desire thanks to the drink and the prolonged deep kiss, I shivered at the sight of his throbbing penis as he peeled off his underwear. It sprang out from a thick bush of hair, dark, with the bulging, pinkish knob brushing the foreskin to the sides. Two large coal-blacks bags, full of its venomous ammunition, hung from its sides. It was like a wild beast, jumping out from some undergrowth, baring its fangs angrily before falling on its prey and tearing it to shreds.

My husband has a normal penis and I had imagined most males to be similar. But his was just a tame lapdog compared to this dangerous looking bull-mastiff. It was not so much the length but the girth, the mottled veins and the big egg-like pink head that made me tremble. This one would definitely rip my vagina to shreds, I felt certain, even though I was moist inside. He could not conceal his glee when my heavy firm breasts bobbed out of the bra, giving a wolfish leer, revealing nicotine stained teeth. The sight of my plump breasts with its light pink nipples and bushy pubis made his organ, slightly bent in shape, pulse, with the bulb taking a redder hue.

He made me lie down and open my legs as he dipped his head to my opening below. I had never before had oral sex and this really shocked me. I am not able to describe the next few minutes as his mouth and tongue played in my vagina like a maestro on a piano in a concert. I could hear myself squealing with pleasure. He moved to my breasts and his rough mouth was busy like a starved convict at a seven course dinner. His teeth and tongue worked on my plum like nipples as if he was eating lichi fruit. It was brutal though I did not feel the pain then. My breasts and nipples felt as if they were being mauled by a bear – with a difference – it was delightfully painful.

The monster of a penis was then held up to my face –a deadly loaded gun – to be greased before the action. I could get the slightly pungent male smell from it I had never sucked my husband and this was a unique initiation. I took it inexpertly in my mouth almost gagging when he thrust it deeper. Gradually he prodded me to suck and use my tongue on his bulb. He then pulled it away and asked me to part my legs to position himself in the classic posture of intercourse. The brutish member was carefully put on my vagina as he tried to move the bulb inside.

It just would not go in though he increased the pressure. I felt panicky. He said I was too tight even with my juices and enquired whether I had not had sex for a long time. My low-toned affirmative delighted him and he grunted and spat a large glob of slimy saliva onto his fingers which he rubbed into my vagina. Again positioning his straining animal, he parted my vulva as much as possible with his fingers pushing his member in simultaneously. Removing his hands and lying heavily on my body, he clamped his mouth on mine and the bestial organ surged angrily inside. A wave of pain hit me but I could not scream, with his tongue ferociously working in my mouth. I could sense a rip as my vagina stretched to its limited and gave way. Later I found traces of blood down there.

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