Slave to My Indian Maid - Chapter 17
Rashida and her family enjoy me thoroughly in the village - Tarek
This was supposed to be the last entry in the story of me and my maids, and I tried to keep this chapter short, but failed. Hence, I have no choice but to post this in two chapters. I promise to post the two chapters one after another, so my loyal readers don't have to wait.
During that fateful summer, in that July, there were so many things going on... and while I simply did not want to leave anything out, I had no choice. I had to skip a few stories - such as when the vegetable lady Shabina had used me so demandingly, including passing wind on my face and making me lick her wet and slimy butt cheeks afterwards - but I did not want to leave out any details of my trip to the village of my love and my mistress - Rashida - my buxom maid.
* * *
The train gave a loud whistle as it passed through a long bridge. It was now late afternoon, and we still had two hours left till we reached my older maid Rashida's village. I looked at her - my older buxom chubby maid Rashida - peacefully dozing on her seat even as the train gave a loud whistle, her head leaned against the side (she was seated near to the window). I was seated opposite to her. A few minutes earlier her feet had been stretched so they had rested on my lap, and I had been massaging them like a loyal servant. Now I gently laid her feet on the floor, resting on top of her slippers. I resisted the urge to bend over and kiss my maid servant's feet and ankles, as I normally would have done. This was a public train after all, even though we were in first class, there were still people around.
Still, I touched my finger to my lips, and then touched the same finger to her feet, and then back on my lips, before I resumed my seat. It was my way of paying homage to my queen, my mistress, the love of my life - a lady who was in reality my mere maid servant.
Oh, how much I loved Rashida! How my dick became erect simply by thinking of her! Even today, after all these years! What's it like, you may wonder, to serve a beautiful, chubby, matronly, lady like Rashida? A lady who is actually, need I remind you, my servant lady, and I, her employer. Yet now our roles were reversed -
I
was her absolute slave and servant, and
she
was my absolute beloved mistress and mighty queen.
Well, first, I felt the absolute need... I feel that serving and obeying a dominant lady like Rashida is simply something I NEED to do. I had long ago accepted that my sole purpose in life was to obey, serve, and please Rashida. I was obsessed with her.
Second, at this stage of my life, with absolutely no job and no studies for a couple of months... AND going to her village where I would be totally in service to her... my whole life revolved around Rashida's wants and needs and commands. It's the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing I thought about when I went to sleep.
Rashida. My buxom, chubby, voluptuous, matronly maid servant. How can I serve her? How can I satisfy her? And oh, how much I loved her! I was so happy when she was happy with me.
And yet... at the same time, in serving her, this last week I had been constantly making one mistake after another, and then getting punished for it, often severely. That is the other part of the equation when you serve a lady like Rashida... you must accept punishments.
That is the third point. I have totally lost my ego, my sense of self-respect, my dignity, when I was in her presence. She was not just my mistress Rashida; she was my Queen. I followed Rashida's orders to the best of my ability no matter what, even if it's embarrassing or I don't feel like doing it. I have no choice - I am her slave - and she is making the decisions for me.
For example, about half an hour ago, she wanted a foot massage. Even though there were other people on the train, she rested her feet on my thighs, and I slipped off her sandals and massaged each ankle, each foot, each toe. It did not matter that it might have been embarrassing for me, especially if someone I knew was on that train - why am I massaging my maid servant's feet - but it didn't matter. Rashida commanded, and I obeyed. As simple as that.
Serving a dominant lady like Rashida, and being in total submission to her, IS hard work, no denying it. She has set me rules I have to follow. I need Rashida's permission to do things most people take for granted. For example, I am always supposed to ask Rashida whenever I want to masturbate. Similarly, on this journey, I am told I have to ask her permission to use the facilities... I knew my place, and I felt "owned" by her - every minute of every day.
And... as I said, I loved it. I loved being my maid servant Rashida's total slave.
In our house, whenever she wanted, Rashida could simply strip me naked. Not that she would, but if Rashida had right now ordered me to strip naked
here
on the train, I would have. I have no modesty or shame from her. This was something very liberating to be in complete submission to someone like her. I felt
free
. I could be who I was with her. And that's the fourth point.
I
loved
being Rashida's slave. I got to hang around an awesome dominant female. She sexually aroused me, constantly, with her hold over me. Sometimes she masturbated me or gave me a blowjob. I loved Rashida, and I loved serving her, with all of my heart.
Later on in life I would realize that what I experienced as this love was my brain pumping out Dopamine, Endorphins, Serotonin, and Oxytocin non-stop. It gave me a rush every time she gave me an order. Or punished me. It's not for everyone, but for the right person, a female led relationship can be an exciting and challenging lifestyle.
As I watched Rashida sleep, I recalled what she had told me about her village.
"It's a village where the majority of the people are female." She had told me last night, while caning me. "I think there might be about ten adult men... mostly seniors... and of course kids... but everyone else... including the adults, are all female. There are no young men."
"My lovely
bua
, why is that?" I asked, even though I had some idea. Rashida raised the cane again, and once more my buttocks felt the sting of her punishment.
"Most of the men have gone out to the cities to work." Rashida explained, as she swung down the cane again and again on my bottom. "Ours is a remote village. There's some farming, but most of the houses have women and kids, with the men in the cities. It's a very unique situation. It is also a village where the
sarpaanch
, or the village leader, is a Muslim lady."
"A village full of women. And only women." I had remarked, after Rashida finished caning me, and got busy examining my butt cheeks. "Must be interesting. And kinky."
"Oh, yes! You have no idea!" Rashida's tone was thoughtful and cryptic, as she painfully kneaded my ass. "What normally would
never
happen in other parts of India... sometimes is tolerated... or even accepted... in our village. Fetishes. Kinks.
Baba
, what I am, partly, is also because of where I was from."
"What do you mean, my dear
bua
?"
Rashida had given me another beautiful smile, as she let go of my bottom.
"You will see,
baba
, you will see." She had replied mysteriously. "Let's just say a woman can satisfy herself in my village, publicly, in ways she cannot in rest of India. Now
baba
, over my lap. Let's finish your punishment."
The train came to a stop at a station with another loud whistle, breaking my thoughts, and this time even Rashida woke up. She watched as all the people in our compartment disembarked at the station. Soon we were the only two people left in the compartment.
"Wow." I remarked. "No one is in our compartment, my dear
bua
!"
"It's going to be like this, Tarek." Rashida nodded absent mindedly. "This is Bardhaman. Now our train is going to be mostly empty till the next junction, where we will get off and take the bus to my village, and then a rickshaw to my mother's house."
"Yes,
bua
."
The train soon started again in ten minutes, resuming its journey, and as Rashida said, there was no one in our compartment. Suddenly I heard a couple of beeps. It was our cell phones - mine and Rashida's.
"Our cell signal has gone out." Rashida remarked. "Now we won't have any cell service from here on until we are returning."
"Is it because of that cyclone?" I asked, trying to remember what else Rashida had told me last night.
"Yes." Rashida nodded. "Even though it didn't cause much damage in terms of lives, it caused huge mudslides and lots of rain two months ago. Whole cellphone towers and telephone lines had come down, and they are still repairing. It is supposed to be finished in another two months."
"So... no cellphone." I reflected. "And no telephone either? What about internet? I really need the internet,
bua
. Many of my friends are going away to America or Australia to study, and if they can't get hold my cell, they will email me for meeting up."
"There
is
telephone service in the village." Rashida corrected me. "But we don't have a line in our house. We need to go to the central market to use an STD booth. As for internet, there is one cybercafé there in the central market, which uses satellite internet. It's expensive, but you can use it."
"I see." I shrugged. "I need to check my emails from time to time,
bua
, so I will visit that. Er... with your permission, of course."
"I will have chores for you once we are settled in." Rashida told me. "But you will have the afternoon off... every day... you can visit the market and check your emails from that place then."
"Thank you, my beloved
bua
."
For some time, we didn't speak... just enjoying the solitude, and each other's' company, as the train thundered its way through various Indian villages.
"Do you have to go to the toilet?" Rashida suddenly asked me.
"No,
bua
." I replied. "I did when you were asleep, my dear
bua
."
"
Baba
