Chapter IV
Wife to mistress in a few short steps
I am Yamini, the fourth and last daughter of my parents. I have no brothers. I was born and brought up in Kumbakonam, a temple town in South India. My father is a clerk in a financer's office. He earns enough to meet our family's frugal life style. My sisters are all married. Their husbands are clerks too. As soon as I graduated I joined a furniture company as a sales girl. I was eighteen.
I am very pretty to look at. I am not boasting, but that is what everyone tells me. The owner of the store, Shiva, was not quite middle aged. He was tall and handsome, and very kind to those who worked in his office. We all liked him. A month after I joined I lost my virginity to Shiva. He called me into his inner office one afternoon. He made me sit on the couch and gave me coke to drink. He then held my hand. I drank the coke and allowed him to squeeze my hand. I did not resist. Finding that I was not protesting he hugged me and kissed me. I allowed him. He then removed the pallav of my sari and gently touched my breast. A thrill passed through me. I pressed his hand. Encouraged by that he unhooked my blouse and then undid my bra clasp. He released my breasts one at a time and kneaded them, and then he sucked. I liked it. He then made me lie on the sofa and lifted up my sari. He asked me to spread my thighs and I obeyed. He then undressed. I saw his penis. It was large and straight like a ruler. It was the first time I was seeing an erect penis. He unrolled a condom over it and came on top of me.
He asked me to hold his penis. I did so. He asked me to put it in. I did so. He moved for some time and then made rapid thrusts of his penis into me. He must have ejaculated for when he took his now small penis out the rubber sac was dangling with semen inside. You may be surprised that I am writing this, the most important event in the life of a woman, as if it is a school essay on a domestic animal. I am surprised too for I was without any emotion when it happened. Not excitement, not anxiety, not fear. I was totally relaxed. To this day I cannot explain why I allowed myself to be deflowered with such ease. I am not a person of low intelligence either. I was one of the top pupils in my school. It was not as if our family were loose in morals. My upbringing was strict. My sisters were good girls. I am not a good girl. I think I was born that way. I approached the event as a prostitute does during the course of her daily duties. Sometimes I regret that I yielded so readily. At other times I get the noble feeling that my beauty, like the talents of music and dance, is God given, and it is my duty to share it with others.
My parents might have got the suspicion that a relationship was developing between Shiva and myself. He was a married man, and he did not have a good reputation in the town. Soon after they arranged my marriage. The family of my future husband was very well to do. They were not at the all the people to mix with the family of an indigent clerk. I thought it was my good looks that did the trick. It was, but not quite the way I expected. Later I came to know the rottenness that lies hidden in affluent homes. I went to Madhurai, a hundred miles to the South, to live with my in-laws, as is the custom in these parts. My mother-in-law not only accepted me without dowry but also was very indulgent towards me. She was 42 years old, but looked a sprightly 35. She was a TV addict, and quite youthful in her tastes. Her husband, my father-in-law, was twelve years older than his wife. He looked much older than his age, and spent a lot of time in the puja room.
My Athai (mother-in-law in the Tamil language) would not allow me to work in the kitchen, and encouraged me to dress well, and use expensive cosmetics. It was too good to be true. My husband was not keen that we should have children soon, and he supplied me with oral contraceptive tablets. I threw them away, one every day. I had no fear of pregnancy. When in middle school a gynaecologist found out that I had infantile uterus and cannot bear babies. My Athai was aware that I was on contraception, but she did not object. This again was unusual. I could sense that some conspiracy was on. For the life of me I could not guess what it was. My parents had not told them that I could not have babies. We were bad people in that respect. In the event it was my in-laws who had the last laugh. The reason for the special privileges I enjoyed became obvious when my husband's uncle, a film producer, came one day. I had to dance and sing as he watched. He seemed pleased with my performance. It was then that I knew they were planning a movie career for me. But that was not to be. They found a less uncertain way of exploiting me
My husband was a junior executive in a firm manufacturing electronic goods. It was a big company with an all India presence. He had prospects. On the fourth month of our stay I attended an office party, a get-together for the staff and their families to meet the big boss from Madras HQ. The party was in a big hotel of the type a small town clerks daughter hears about but never has a chance to enter. The food was good, as was the entertainment of light music that followed. The big boss was a friendly person who wanted the family members of his employees to call him Tarun rather than as, 'Sir'. Tarun was in the early forties, slim and athletic, though balding. He took a lot of interest in me, but getting extra attention from men was something I was accustomed to.
'Tarun likes you,' said my husband when we reached home. A month later my husband came home in a high state of excitement. 'Yamini, you know how much I get as increment this year? Five instalments in one shot, quite unprecedented. The previous highest in the office has been only three. I am on par with assistant managers though not designated that as yet. We have assistant managers only in Madras HQ.' And he bubbled along in his happiness. My husband, though regular to duties, did not appear to be a person so extraordinary in his abilities as to get any unprecedented hike in pay. From the way the boss looked at me I suspected that I figured in it. I left it at that.
Within a fortnight my husband got orders to join the headquarters office as an assistant manager. My mother-in-law moved in with us. Life was not very different in Madras. Power cuts were less, but water scarcity was acute. Evenings were cooler.
Three months after he joined there was an office party. I met the wives of the other assistant managers. They were a gossipy lot. They seemed to know a lot about office politics. Tarun was very attentive to me, and maybe not by chance at dinner I was at the same table with him and another lady manager. We discussed music, a subject in which I had interest. But when we were leaving I was in the elevator with him along with two others not of our office. When we got out he tapped me on the cheek and said 'you are very pretty'. That evening my husband asked me about my experiences at the party. I told him, but left out that bit about the cheek tapping. My husband told me that Tarun was known to 'misbehave' with wives of his subordinates.
'You mean he pinches' I asked. My husband nodded. 'If he finds one in a quiet corner he may kiss and fondle too,' I continued.
'I don't know about that,' said my husband.
'And to promote one to senior assistant manager he may want the wife to go even further,' I said. My husband laughed.
'Well I don't know about that either,' he said. I pretended to be reading a magazine.
'What would you like my reaction to be,' I said with my eyes still on the pages of the magazine, "if he makes such a request?'
'You have to use your judgement,' he answered immediately as if he expected me to ask that question.
'Suppose I judge that it is in our best interest to humour him would you accept me back as if nothing has happened.' My husband did not say anything for almost a minute.
'I would respect your judgement,' he said. The mystery of the promotion was solved. My husband was not unwilling to share his wife with his boss.
I have of course heard stories of how weaknesses in the big bosses are made use of by his subordinates to climb up in the company. It happens in the army and the civil services too. It is in private firms where the big boss is the owner and has total control that it occurs in the most florid form. I was game to the adventure.
I was curious to find what my mother-in-law thought about it. But first I had to know how much her son has told her. I waited for her to start the topic about the party. She did that afternoon.
"How did you like the party?" she asked.
"Athai, the big man was very attentive to me." The old lady went into a fit of hacking laughter.
"Pretty women turn them on," she said.