Chapter Nine.
The army of the East India Company had sighted the towers and walls of the place of Jhansi. Picquets had been doubled and for the first time, scouts reported back on what they saw.
Which was nothing except obvious repairs to the Star Fort formally manned by the sepoys and officer six months ago. The scouts galloped hither and thither gathering a remarkably shortfall of actual intelligence. Ahead of the main force, Ghadnar had trotted alongside his mounted officer to view the Jhansi palace and fort. Ghadnar had stood with his English officer, peering through an expensive brass-plated telescope given to him by his father and inscribed; 'To George Mayhew, honour your name and make your fortune', and counselled him on what to expect and was promptly ignored by the officer.
"I see the fort had been shored up; nothing else! I expect to have the exalted Jezebel of Jhansi on her knees sucking my prick by tomorrow night!" The officer chuckled. His words stung Ghadnar as he too had expected to win an easy battle under the Princeling some months ago, who he assumed was still a prisoner in the palace cells, and take the beautiful Ran as his whore.
But that had changed. Mara had changed him. In her arms, he found something akin to real affection, even love. Her love-making, though still alluring and exciting, made him feel complete. He guarded her with ferocity, employing his loyal corporal to stand guard, when he was attending to his patron officer.
"Sahib, I know this fort. I know it's defences. It was strong with cannon," Ghadnar indicated the repaired section, "I can just make out a section that is fresh stonework. They will have their strongest defence there!" The officer shrugged casually,
"Well, let us focus on the palace," He scanned the horizon and spied the place. Its tall walls, towers and beautiful red stonework were awesome, "I think I will have the Jhansi bitch beneath me quite soon, but my prick will need some loving attention tonight. Who knows how long the siege might take," The Officer looked down at Ghadnar, "Arrange it!"
As the army settled into his camp, Ghadnar had his work cut out for him, none of the other whores in the cam could be bribed to take the abuse that Mayhew would dispense. He tried the other women in the camp but to no avail. He knew this failure would leave a black mark upon him, finding whores had been his way into Mayhew's good graces but he would have to concede defeat and promise him all the women he could manage when they won the battle in the morning and hope for the best.
As he made his way through the camp, he came across Mathew's tent, but it was dark and still. There was no guard either. Initially confused, he looked around. His brother officers were present, some paying cards, some drinking, other's laughing with a pretty girl on their knees, the whores would make a lot of gold this night as some men expected to die in the morning so would take whatever comfort they could.
Then an icy thought cut through him; Mara!
An hour before, George Mayhew with his new accomplice, Corporal Mulal, had approached Mara's tent, Mayhew opened the flap, walked in and found Mara partially dressed after washing herself from a freshly drawn pail. The Corporal stood guard, with his musket and bayonet ready,
"Excellent! You all clean for me," With that, he slapped Mara hard across her face which sent her tumbling to the groundsheet, "Your sergeant has failed to find me a suitable woman for the night and so you'll have to do, but I think my redoubtable sergeant has been keeping you secret, my dear" Mayhew had dressed simply, in breeches, boots and a linen shirt, grabbed at her hips, and twisted Mara onto her hands and knees, and had soon released his erect prick and was busy pulled at Mara's pleats,
"Please sahib..." Mara's pleas went unheeded. With her head still buzzing from the slap, she offered little resistance to him and within moments, Mathew had penetrated her cunny and was pounded into her. Mara could often not resistance to her abuser and as soon as his ardour was stiffened further, he spat onto her anus and worked his thumb into her puckered hole. Mara, having been abused by men, knew what was coming and did everything she could to relax herself and as her body reacted to the pounding, however unwelcome, could feel herself producing her sweet lubricant. As Mathew strained and grunted, lacking any finesse or knowledge of how to please a woman, pulled out of her cunny, thankfully coated with enough of Mara's lubricant to east the sudden invasion of her dirt hole,
Mayhew, of course, remarked on his prowess, "Well your cunny floods well, you must love my white prick! Perhaps I shall make you my whore from now on! If you continue to please me, then your man can remain a sergeant otherwise, he will be court-martialled on some charge and shot!" The implication was clear, give in to him or find herself destitute and forced to return to whoredom to survive and then back to him, on her knees begging for his attentions.