"His need for you, and the conflict of his role in your life, brought him much pain and sleepless nights. Did he perform the ritual when he made love to you the first time?"
"What ritual?"
"There are many, Little Monkey, each to heighten the awareness of love. You have been taught that there are the five senses to be stimulated to enjoyment, which is the reason we are instructed in the arts of massage, dancing, and music, and also employ the use of the mind. It is all to bring balance and harmony to every aspect of the relationship."
"I have learned many of those skills already, and consider myself fairly proficient. They have not enhanced or done anything to improve my relationship with that cur."
"Place your anger and bitterness onto a plate and listen to my words with care." Rama squeezed her hands. "The arts and education bring discipline to the body, spirit, soul and mind. They provide balance between the artistic and the necessity; the sensual and the intellectual. Your harmony was disrupted because you disobeyed your instructions. You had the option to withstand physical pain, which would quickly resolve, or the pain in the heart which might not. Do you understand?"
"Not at all. Philip seduced me. I did not invite any of this," Jane said sourly.
"Did you try to stop him?"
"Yes."
"How?" When Jane did not respond, Rama continued. "Allow me to share the ritual of lovemaking with you," he said patiently. "If this does not sound appealing, then I will make no more discussion about it. If it does stir you, I wish you to consider giving Philip a final opportunity to show you how he has committed his heart and soul to his love for you. Agreed?"
"Uncle Rama, even if I did find it appealing, that does not change my knowledge that he fucked other women."
"No, it does not," Rama agreed. "But consider the fact that, because of his teachers, he is able to indulge in the ritual fully, and with you. Will you allow me to share?"
"Yes. I suppose," Jane said with a glower.
"Very good! Many households have a room, separate from the rest of the home, that we call the Chamber of Love. Often, it has nothing within it but a bed, flowers and incense. The gentleman takes a bath, dresses in fine attire, then gathers his friends and servants to enter. There, he sits with his woman, offers her drinks to relax and calm her, and makes small talk, often with amusing or interesting stories. She is entertained with riddles and nonsensical gossip, and awakened as he slowly introduces spicy subjects to the conversation. He often whispers shameless proposals into her ear, knowing that his hot breath will cause her to shiver with delight. Then music and song begin and they rise to dance, slowly, and close to one another's body so that they touch through their clothing. He offers her more to drink when they sit down to rest, and they discuss art or a book they have both read. As he speaks, he strokes her hair and slowly slides her robe away from her thighs. She is distracted, and does not take notice of his subtle boldness."
"Philip has done those things, only at different times," Jane commented with a frown. "It is part of courting. Nothing special. And certainly not in front of anyone."
"The ritual does not have to be played out exactly as I described. It is simply a series of events that lead to lovemaking. I know Philip well enough to doubt that he would show you phallic drawings. At least, not in a public setting." Rama laughed. "But allow me to continue. With his hands, he applies perfumed oils and flower essences, and offers her a betel nut."
"What is that?"
"It is a fruit from a palm. It is sliced and sprinkled with cinnamon and cardamom, and then wrapped in a leaf to chew. It is greatly valued, as it brings about feelings of euphoria. We traditionally offer this as a mark of respect and auspicious beginnings."
"So the man essentially gets the woman drunk and then drugs her? In front of a roomful of people? Where is the appeal in this, Uncle?"
"Remember that the ritual is founded upon gaining pleasure, and many enjoy drink and such. I digress," Rama said, holding the glass of brandy to Jane's mouth. "After the betel is offered, everyone else leaves the room, and he aggressively tears her robe from her body so that they may have relations. He chooses the positions that will satisfy both partners, and ensures that she gains as much joy as he does. After they are finished, they clean themselves in separate rooms and return to the bed, where he rubs sandalwood paste over her body and applies fine powder to any bruises incurred during the height of their passion. They relax together with his arms possessively around her, and he speaks sweetly, while offering her food and drinks of juice and sweet liquors. Their evening ends as they stand upon the terrace and converse under the moon and the stars."
Jane was silent. This romantic ritual was very different to the courting that took place back 'home'. There was as much 'talk' as there was touch, and all the senses were stimulated from start to finish. She recognized the changes in Philip's behavior, changes which reflected his training, but that still did not alter the way she felt about the betrayal.
"Talk to me, Little Monkey. What are you considering so deeply that lines are etched across your brow?"
"I don't know what to say. I am still very hurt and confused. I wish Lynette had not said anything."
"A lack of knowledge would not change how Philip tends to you, or his love for you. That still exists. It is you who has changed with this knowledge. He has never brought a woman to meet me or my family. Only you. You have been the one on whom he had his heart set since the first time he visited me. He was only sixteen, and he traveled far and wide to find a gift for his endearing Little Monkey."
"Really?" Jane blinked through her tears. "Was that when he brought me that doll?"
"Yes. He was so specific as to what he wanted. So much so, that I had an artisan come to the palace and craft it."
"You did?"
"I did. There was little time to finish it, and so much to be done, so Philip put needle to canvas, and helped sew on the glass beads which adorn the doll's sari."
Jane was speechless. That doll went with her everywhere as a treasured possession, a reminder that she had been thought of during the time that they were separated. The knowledge that Philip had physically contributed to the little doll's beauty astounded her.
"He never told me. No wonder he was so sad when the dog made a meal out of her."
"I don't know any sixteen year old boy who would have openly admitted to doing needlework on a doll, do you?" Rama chuckled. "But that is how much he loved you, even then. Will you consider allowing him a chance to prove himself to you?"
"Yes," Jane sighed. "I suppose I should. My anger does not erase the love I hold for him."
"Excellent." He took her glass from her and made her stand up between his knees. "Now, young lady, it is time for you and I to talk. You left the palace grounds again."
"Yes, but I was so upset and hurt."
"You could have stayed in your chambers."
"I did not want Usha and the rest of them bothering me."
"Jane…" His voice took on a low warning.
"Yes, sir," Jane sighed, "I could have gone to my room and chose not to. I just wanted to get away from all of it. If the road was not so far from town, I probably would have ventured there, too."
"That is what I thought. What shall we do about this disobedience?"
"I do not think we should do anything, Uncle."
"True. What do you think I should do about this?"
Jane bit her lip, staring at the ground. She could not deny her curiosity about what a spanking would feel like given by another man; especially after Lynette's proclamation of how efficient the Raja was in that department. Her heart was also aching, and the need to feel anything, even pain, was calling to her.
"It's up to you," she said quietly, wiping the remaining tears from her face with the back of her hand.
Rama stood to distance himself, placing his hands on his waist as he paced the room in thought. He paused to look at her. "Spankings, like lovemaking, follow rituals in my home. Whether it be a young child or a
n errant wife, they are all handled in the same manner. I consider you a member of this family and, therefore, you shall receive the same treatment. Agreed?"
"Yes, Uncle Rama," Jane answered nervously. She felt a fine layer of perspiration coat her body, and shivered. There was something menacing about the Prince of State; something she had not noticed before. She immediately regretted her situation.
"The position I choose is based on the transgression performed. For talking back and rudeness, I will usually place the transgressor across my lap. For serious and dangerous misdeeds, they are restrained over a device of some sort. In your case, your disobedience demands not just pain, but a degree of humiliation. You must learn that I am to be obeyed at all times. Not because I am the prince, but because I am your protector and your friend. That is why I insist on you calling me 'Uncle.'"
Jane's hands began to tremble. "I never made that connection. What are you going to do to me?"
He pulled a long, braided cord in the corner of the room and summoned a servant, issuing orders under his breath. The man bowed, nodded, and scurried away. Rama said nothing until the man returned, carrying with him a small bowl.
"We will remain here in the sitting chambers, as it is not appropriate for you to go into my bedroom. There are guards at the door to prevent anyone from entering uninvited," Rama said, removing a long, thick item from the bowl with a towel. He held it up to the light, eyeing it carefully.
"What is that?"
"Freshly peeled ginger root. I was checking to see if the juice had started to seep from the stalk. This will be inserted into your bottom, and stay in place during your punishment."
"Please, reconsider," Jane begged, her knowledge all too great about the application of the root. It was a common method of punishment back in England—one she had heard of, but had fortunately not experienced.
"The juice of the root causes an uncomfortable burning sensation whenever the victim clenches her bottom during punishment. A clenched bottom does not receive a spanking properly, and is also a sign of resistance. I insist on a relaxed, submissive target."
"I understand the need to spank me, but figging? That is barbaric. Philip would never do that," Jane said nervously, as she slowly backed away.
"You will do as I say, little one." His voice was calm and decisive. She recalled Philip once telling her that there was no arguing with the Raj; that his word, literally, was law, and the consequences for disobedience severe. She had, of course, applied that statement to political agendas—not personal ones!
Rama cleared the large table of vases and patted its surface. "Remove your drawers and place yourself upon your back, with your knees held to your chest. Make certain that your bottom is hanging over the edge."
"Uncle Rama! That is positively indecent!"
"I do not repeat myself."
"Modesty dictates—"
"I could have you strip naked. Would you prefer that?"
Jane flushed and reached under her loose cotton dress to untie the drawers. They slid silently to the floor, and she took a moment to stare at the puddle of material before looking back up into Rama's dark, serious eyes. She trembled, climbing onto the table as instructed and lying down in the middle upon her back.
"Bring your bottom closer to me, until you feel the edge of the table touch the backs of your thighs. Now, lift your knees to your chest and hold them still."
She bit back her tears as she slowly obeyed. Humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave. How had she managed to get herself into such a mess?
"Move the material from your bottom and legs, Jane. I wish to have a full view of what I am going to be paddling."
The thudding of her heart pounded loudly in her ears. "Paddling?"
"Yes, dear. It is not right for me to be laying a bare hand upon your exposed flesh. Pull your cheeks wide apart. I do not wish to force this ginger to enter your bottom."
Jane whimpered, reaching down and wrapping her fingers around the edges of her buttocks. Her entire body quivered as she parted her mounds and exposed her tiny, pink rosebud to the Raja's watchful eyes. The sound of something snapping made her jump.
"Before I insert the ginger, I am going to introduce you to a particular punishment that even my Lynette does not care for. If you move, I will have you tied in this position. Understand?"
"Yes, sir, Uncle Rama," she said in a tiny voice. She felt something trace along the crack of her bottom, followed by its removal. Another snap was heard, followed by a horrible biting pain to her delicate hole, which made her scream out.
"Ow! Oh, dear Lord!"
"Six, Jane. I do not cane my girls, but I will whip their bum holes. This will ensure that the ginger does its work both on, and inside, you. Do not release your hold."
She cried out again, clenching her muscles as the small whip flicked between her mounds a second time. Tears were dripping down her cheeks by the third stroke, as the burn spread terribly through the soft, delicate flesh. She choked back a sob as the whip fell in a sharp lash a fourth instance, then a fifth.
"One more. Do not move." His voice was calm and controlled, absent of any anger of malice.
Jane's scream echoed through the chamber as the small whip was expertly yielded and slashed against the moist tissue lining the inside of her cheeks. She cried, still clutching her buttocks while holding her knees close to her body.
"That was not pleasurable, was it?" Rama asked. "This will be just as unpleasant, but I am certain it will teach you to obey."
A loud moan escaped her throat as she felt the long, thick root being urged into her sizzling hot anus. The juice, as it touched the inflamed tissue, sent a burning fire through the most sensitive part of her body. She screamed again, trying to cover her bottom with her hands.
"You released your hold." Rama said sadly. He shouted towards the door, and ordered the two guards to assist.
"No! I'm sorry, Uncle Rama. I'm sorry!" Jane begged, as the two large men positioned themselves at her sides. They held her wrists to the table over her head and drew her knees to her chest, holding them steady as Rama worked the rest of the root deep into her tortured bottom.
He then picked up a thick breadboard with a long handle and placed it upon the protruding edge of her backside. The paddle flew sharply against her sit-spots, seating the root even deeper within. Jane involuntarily squeezed her cheeks together to relieve herself of the sting, only to discover that the action, indeed, compressed the ginger and released more of the fresh, caustic juice.
"It burns! My God! It burns!" she cried out, squirming uselessly to relieve the agony.
Rama laid the heavy wood across her bottom three more times, jarring the root in her bottom every time he left a dark, red splotch upon her pale skin.
"How many times did I tell you not to leave the palace grounds?" he asked calmly, flinging the paddle against her jiggling backside a fifth time. The close proximity of the wood to her pussy frightened her as much as the harshly delivered strokes in this particular position brought her pain.
"Three! Three times, Uncle Rama," Jane wept, unable to break free from the grips of the silent guards.
"Three times. Eons ago, disobedience to the Raja was punishable by death. Now, at least for you, it merely results in a terribly sore backside." He paused to survey the condition of her flesh. "Five more strokes, Jane. They will be severe and leave you tender for several days, but better for me to leave you tender than for you to risk life and limb."
Jane's head swam with the indescribable pain as it lit across her lower half. The paddle tasted the backs of her upper thighs and kissed lightly upon the base of her pussy as it smashed against her stretched, exposed bottom. The only thing louder than the sounds of wood meeting flesh were Jane's cries of pain.
When he had completed the paddling, Rama gently placed the breadboard on the table, next to the sobbing girl. "Release her. You are dismissed," he said softly to the guards. "To the corner, Jane."
He helped her off the table and sm
oothed down her dress as she fought to stand on wobbly legs. When he pushed her gently towards the corner, she obeyed, barely able to catch her breath as she stumbled to her destination. She clutched her aching bottom, unable to ease the excruciating burn from either her outer, or inner, flesh.
"Stay there until I return," Rama said gently, kissing the top of her head. "You may remove the ginger after I am gone. And Jane?"
"Yes, Uncle Rama?" she sniffed, still trying to catch her breath.
"You are grounded for two days. I will have meals brought to you, but you are not to set one foot outside that door. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." At that moment, Jane swore to never disobey the Raja again.
Chapter Three
"Janie?"
"I thought you left for the cottage," Jane sniffled, not turning her face from the corner.
"I couldn't leave knowing that Rama would be punishing you. Why are you so angry with me? Please, tell me."
Jane pressed her cheek against the wall. It was easier to talk to him when she didn't have to look at his face, so she spoke to the sparking white corner as though there was no one around to hear. She expressed her pain and anger, her words breaking through her hiccups. She held nothing back about how she felt—the betrayal, the forced loneliness, the insecurities, and the insensitive manner in which she'd been advised of the situation. She shared what Rama had told her, and admitted that she was envious that the paid courtesans had experienced the full courtship ritual with him when she had barely tasted the beginning of it. She explained the shame of her jealousy, but also that she was powerless to stop it.
Philip did not interrupt as she emptied herself of all the fears, doubts, and heartache within her, and waited patiently until she had finally run out of words and simply stood there, crying pathetically into her hands.
"Damn it," he swore. "Janie? It is not what you think. Not at all. Please look at me."
"Uncle Rama said I had to stay in the corner." Jane's voice was very childlike in its tone.
"I am an exception."
"No. I am not risking making him angry again."
His Little Courtesan Page 3