A lust-filled afternoon in an Indian town

A lust-filled afternoon in an Indian town

Denny opened the door to his office. ‘Another Monday,’ he thought with pleasure, ‘another collection day.’

He was a very rich man who couldn’t ever get enough of money. A trader basically, dealing in commodities like rubber and coir, his main source of income was money-lending or what was known in his part of the world, ‘gold loans’ which meant lending against gold or jewellery. His customers were generally people not very well off, uneducated and rather intimidated at the thought of approaching banks for their needs. The rate of interest charged was exorbitant but Denny was known to never turn a needy person down and coupled with his jovial exterior and a syrupy tongue, managed to have a thriving business. Monday, his collection day, was special because he could literally see his wealth increase before his eyes. All transactions were in cash so no tax was ever paid. He was a real stickler for timely payments by clients and the penal interest charged was normally a sound deterrent against default. Occasionally if an errant borrower happened to be female and under fifty, he would waive the penalty in exchange for some minor sexual favours.

Denny was free with his money in entertaining his group of cronies, all in their early thirties and unmarried. Five of them would gather in his office every evening after six and they would either go to a bar or one of the clubs. Wilson, the dandy of the group, was always dressed impeccably and fancied himself as a ladies man. The group would watch an occasional blue film at Denny’s office late at night.

One weekend, during a the drinking session, Denny pulled Wilson aside.

‘Wil, try and get out of work on Monday morning and turn up at my office by around 11. You might get lucky,’ he whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

‘What’s up Den?’ asked Wilson.

‘Come and see for yourself,’ was the cryptic reply.

Wilson was rather mystified by his friend’s odd behaviour.

However around 11 on Monday morning he walked into Denny’s office bursting with curiosity. Denny greeted him and asked him to sit in his cabin. Shortly there was a timid knock and a woman walked in hesitatingly. She appeared to be a rural type, of average height, dark and quite mediocre to look at, dressed in a cheap saree. Her hair was highly oiled in the usual rustic fashion and tied back tightly. There were traces of talcum powder on her countenance. She had obviously tried to spruce up her appearance for this meeting.

‘Sir,’ she addressed Denny diffidently.

‘Ah Sheeja, my dear lady. How are you,’ boomed Denny’s deep voice.

‘Sir,’ she stammered. ‘Forgive me. I will not be able to pay this month’s interest right now.’

‘What,’ hissed Denny, his face darkening. ‘Only three months ago you defaulted. I let you go lightly then but I’ll have to take serious action this time.’

Wilson could see that Denny’s wrath was an act but the poor woman was thoroughly intimidated. It appeared that she had taken a loan for sending her sister overseas to work. She had pawned some gold bangles without her husband’s knowledge and had hoped to pay and recover the ornaments quickly. She was obviously terrified of her husband’s reaction, which most likely would have been violent had he discovered her subterfuge. Like all married men on their island village, her husband’s favourite pastime included drinking away most of his hard earned money in the evening, after slogging on the mainland and on returning home in a drunken state, beating and forcibly having sex with his wife.

‘Denny Sir please,’ she faltered and continued, ‘if you could give me some more time…….,’ her voice trailed away.

‘No,’ he thundered, thumping his desk with violence. ‘Why don’t you tell your husband to help you?’

He waited for a moment as she remained silent and tearful.

‘There may be a way,’ he said softly. ‘But …. I don’t know. Maybe I’d better have a word with your husband.’

‘Please Denny Sir, I beg of you. I’ll definitely make it up next month.’

Denny did not reply, playing on the woman’s nerves.

‘Ok. Sheeja, there’s a way out. I’ll waive this month’s interest. Remember last time?’ he asked with a smirk, and continued, ‘this time it will be different my dear, very different. This time you will have to entertain my friend here,’ turning to Wilson who looked stupefied at the exchanges.

‘He is quite a handsome chap so you will not have a hard time,’ he said mockingly.

‘Well what’s your decision? We don’t have all day. Come on, make up your mind fast,’ said Denny impatiently.

She kept silent looking down at the floor.

‘I think we’ll take your silence to mean assent.’

He pulled Wilson aside and told him softly, ‘That door over there leads to a small room with a couch and a toilet. I use it occasionally to have a siesta in the afternoon among other things. I will leave the office now and send my old clerk away on some work. The office will be closed till evening so you can have your fill for the next few hours, dear boy. Don’t say I don’t look after my friends,’ he finished with a leer.

‘But hold on a minute Den. Hey man are you sure it’s ok? What happens if she ….’, his voice trailed off.

‘What happens if she what? Ha, ha ha,’ Denny threw back his head and laughed. ‘Come on man. Have a little spine. If she gets loaded, that’s her look out,’ he said coarsely. After all she’s married so there’s no hassle on that score. Say Willie, do you want it or not?’ he asked, sounding a touch testy. ‘I thought I was doing you a favour and here you are behaving like a wet rag.’

‘No no, Denny my dear friend. I do want it very much and am delighted that you asked me here today. I was only worried that she might kick up a fuss,’ Wilson hastened to explain.

‘She’ll make no fuss. Don’t you worry.’

Denny raised his voice to bring the apprehensive woman into the conversation, ‘Right then, I’m going out now for some work. You two have a chat. Don’t look so worried Sheeja my girl. Relax and have fun,’ he said with a derisive grin and went out.

Wilson woke up suddenly. The tiny room was in semi-darkness and rather oppressive with the smell of raw sex. He had his arms around the sleeping naked woman lying with her buttocks tight against his crotch. He was sapped of all energy, unable to even move for the moment.

‘Hell what a bomb!!’ he thought in wonderment, as he recalled the explosive hours of foreplay and repeated sex with this dowdy looking female. Her body had been like a parched desert absorbing every last droplet of fluid from his loins. He winced as he felt a dull ache in his utterly drained testicles. He had no recollection of ever being so completely satiated not even when he had slept with that painted up tart of a TV artiste who was well versed in her trade.

What dormant volcanic passions had he awoken he wondered, as he remembered how he had to threaten her initially, to disrobe. In a short while he had transformed his reluctant and unresponsive partner into a willing slave, ready to yield to his slightest wish as his expert tongue silkily caressed every nook and cranny of her body moistly. She had been totally naïve in sex despite having had a child. Her experience of sex had been a few painful moments on days that a drunken husband forced himself into her unwilling body.

He quietly lit a cigarette, inhaling the stimulating smoke and with deep satisfaction played back that fantastic session of foreplay and intercourse in his mind. He had truly surpassed himself, being totally uninhibited, secure in the knowledge that he was with a novice in sexual matters. He had taken his imagination to unknown heights letting his body and mind perform unrestrained. In the process he had surprised himself with his stamina and overpowering lust for this drab feminine form as he had taken the country Sheeja thrice in the space of five hours, driving into her with a rare energy and libido and riding her to the pinnacle of ecstasy several times. She had admitted shyly to him that this had never happened to her in her life. He could still feel the smell and taste of her secretions lingering in his nostrils and tongue.

‘Hell’, he thought. ‘I hope she will be able to carry herself properly when she takes the boat back to her island.’

The ring of the telephone interrupted his train of thoughts.

It was Denny wanting to know whether he could now get back to office.

“Willie boy how’s it going. You two finished your business? How was it?’

‘Pure gold Den! Just too marvellous to put into words. This will teach me never to look down upon these rustic types,’ he replied.

‘Hope you two haven’t stained my couch too badly’, said Denny with a laugh. “Put me to her. I just want to ask her how she feels.’

‘Sheeja my dear how was it,’ he asked teasingly.

She giggled softly.

‘I think I will have to charge you for the fun you’ve had. Anyway you’d better tidy up and get back home since it’s getting late,’ said Denny. “You can come some other time if you feel like more.’

As she left for the boat jetty, she knew that this was only the beginning of a new chapter in her life of drudgery. A chapter of forbidden pleasure, which she would keep returning to.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.

#lustfilled #afternoon #Indian #town

A lust-filled afternoon in an Indian town